


The Thing With Feathers

by Rozu_chan_happy_tomato



Series: All The Difference [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin is sunshine in human form, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic, Aromantic Obi-Wan Kenobi, Asexual Character, Asexual Obi-Wan Kenobi, BAMF Anakin Skywalker, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Fruit baskets as a teaching device, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love is not Attachment, Mentioned Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Nap, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan Kenobi tries his best, Other, Phantom of the Opera as a teaching device, Qui-gon Jinn is a good jedi but a not so great force dad, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozu_chan_happy_tomato/pseuds/Rozu_chan_happy_tomato
Summary: “Six months?” Knight Kenobi said, staring in shock at the Zabrak council member. Eeth Koth inclined his head in conformation. He noted that Knight Kenobi’s impeccable manners had lapsed slightly, which was understandable, given the shock that Eeth’s news had likely given the humanoid.“The head mind-healer herself wanted to address the possible trauma and PTSD that you and your Padawan may have received during this mission.” Eeth said, cursing his old Master in his mind and behind sufficient barriers. Why didn’t she just ask Master Yoda to order Knight Kenobi? Then, maybe then, Eeth wouldn’t have had to be the one to break the news. Again. Make it so, indeed, Eeth thought. “She has also asked me to inform you” curse you, Master, “that there will be nowhere to hide, so ‘best be done with it.’”~ooor~ this author thinks that Obi-wan and Anakin both need all the hugs and therapy they can get, so here is my best approximation of a fixit series. Sorry for the tags.
Relationships: Aayla Secura & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Mace Windu, Anakin Skywalker & Original Character(s), Bant Eerin & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Feemor & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Series: All The Difference [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909651
Comments: 269
Kudos: 543





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> "The Thing With Feathers" as a title is taken from Emily Dickenson's poem "Hope." All of these parts in the series (by the way, the series name is from Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken") have titles taken from some of my favorite pieces of poetry. I have more than one Emily Dickenson in here, so you can see who is my favorite! I highly encourage you to give all these people a read, they're great!
> 
> So, this is also my first foray into WRITING for the Star Wars fandom. As such, please treat me gently. If there are any errors that you see in word choice, please let me know. Otherwise, this work is completely for fun and kind of my own form of therapy (I lowkey am projecting my own issues onto Obi-wan, so to be forewarned is to be forarmed, or whatever)! 
> 
> By the way, there will be a trigger warning in one of the therapy chapters. I'll tag it in the notes for that chapter as well!
> 
> Have a great read! ~Rozu_chan

The cell was dark and dank and T’la lay prone, curled around the body of her Master, scarcely breathing, thinking, caring. Her heart was empty, so empty. Djen Aso – her former Padawan who had just barely been made a Knight – was already one with the Force and T’la had wept as she realized that Master Ki-Alu-Undo was soon about to follow in his Grandpadawan’s footsteps. _There is no emotion_ , T’la thought as she hugged her Master’s cold corpse to closer to her weakened form, _there is peace_. _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no_ … _no Death_ … _no Death_. _There is the_ …Force. As T’la lay in the small cell that she had shared with her father-figure and her pseudo-daughter, she tried to ruthlessly release her emotions to the Force in waves. 

_This isn’t helping_ , she thought, looking at the emptiness in her heart that sat as heavily as undigested food would. Djen’s body was already rotted. There would be no Jedi funeral rights for her, or any of them. T’la closed her eyes, wishing for Djen’s witty humour, for Master Undo’s bad puns that T’la and Djen had secretly enjoyed. They were one with the Force. T’la wanted to eat a dinner with them once more, making faces at each other and loudly proclaiming that whoever cooked the tubers obviously didn’t know a _thing_ about cooking tubers. They were one with the Force. Djen and her poetry. They were one with the Force. Master Undo and his seemingly limitless knowledge on the different philosophical arguments surrounding the way of the Jedi. They were one with the Force. Master Undo’s willingness to eat anything put in front of him. They were once with the Force. Djen’s habit of using long, thin pins that held up her hair as alternative weapons to her lightsaber. They were one with the Force. _Master Undo was right_ , T’la thought, _the Jedi code is insufficient and stagnant_. Master Undo was always right.

They were one with the Force. Hopefully, T’la would follow her most precious people into the force soon. 


	2. What the Force Wants...

Master Ro, as T’la had been called for quite some time now, sat at her desk in the halls of healing of the Jedi Temple and pondered. The Force had been nudging her all night, scarcely giving her enough time to rest her eyes, and so she now sat at her desk pondering why the Force had nudged her there, at that time, to review reports from the council. Closing her eyes, T’la sank into the Force’s welcoming roots and allowed herself to commune. Images flashed through her head, too quick at first for T’la to make out, but then pausing once or twice upon certain people. A young Knight, too young, with red hair and blue eyes. A young Padawan, too old, with blond hair and blue eyes. The grief and anger T’la felt from the two stirred her sympathy, and T’la knew what she was to look for. Surfacing from her meditative state, T’la brushed roots from her eyes and picked up her datapad to look through the more recent reports.

“I believe this one is what the Force is nudging me towards,” T’la said to herself, quietly so as not to disturb anyone’s morning. A report from Naboo. Master Qui-gon Jinn had been killed by a Sith, who had in turn been killed by Master Jinn’s Padawan – now Knight – Obi-wan Kenobi. Knight Kenobi had proceeded to immediately take as a Padawan one Anakin Skywalker, who the council had previously deemed too old to train. _A catalyst for change_ , the Force whispered, curling playfully around T’la, _a chance to return life to the Jedi_. T’la drummed her fingers on the table next to the datapad.

“To return life to the Jedi.” T’la sent a message through her datapad to her most recent Padawan – now a member of the Jedi council, though she wasn’t too proud of that fact, she and the council had their differences – Eeth Koth. “ _I would like Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker to be temple-bound and sent to my division once weekly for at least six standard months. Suspected trauma and PTSD. Please make this so, Eeth. – T’la_ ” The Force whispered its favour, and T’la leaned back in her chair.

“Emotion, yet peace,” T’la said, “Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” T’la exhaled and smiled. _Here we go again, Master Undo, my dear Djen Aso, beloved Saam Isla. Watch over me, my dears._


	3. A Jedi, Betrayed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan forced into therapy by the devious T'la Ro!

“Six months?” Knight Kenobi said, staring in shock at the Zabrak council member. Eeth Koth inclined his head in conformation. He noted that Knight Kenobi’s impeccable manners had lapsed slightly, which was understandable, given the shock that Eeth’s news had likely given the humanoid. 

“The head mind-healer herself wanted to address the possible trauma and PTSD that you and your Padawan may have received during this mission.” Eeth said, cursing his old Master in his mind and behind sufficient barriers. Why didn’t she just ask Master Yoda to order Knight Kenobi? Then, _maybe then_ , Eeth wouldn’t have had to be the one to break the news. Again. _Make it so, indeed_ , Eeth thought. “She has also asked me to inform you” _curse you, Master,_ “that there will be nowhere to hide, so ‘best be done with it.’” The young man standing before Eeth looked ready to keel over. The young boy beside his new Master just seemed confused. “She will be giving the initial assessment and then assigning you two to a mind-healer, who you will then meet with once weekly for at least six months or until the mind-healers declare the both of you as fit for duty.” Eeth was beginning to worry about Knight Kenobi. The Knight had garnered a reputation as being somewhat sharp-witted and well-spoken, but he had yet to say or do anything other than sputter. Perhaps his old master was right about this. _Kriff_.

“What’s a mind-healer?” the young boy – Padawan Skywalker, Eeth corrected himself – asked. Glad to have some kind of conversation other than sputtering and blinking, Eeth smiled down at the boy.

“A mind-healer takes emotional hurts and helps to mend them, just like a regular healer takes the physical hurts of your body and mends those.” The Zabrak replied, using the simplified explanation that Master Ro had given _him_ when he had asked. Padawan Skywalker scrunched his face, in what Eeth perceived to be confusion.

“I don’t get it.” He said. Eeth suppressed a sigh. This was why he’d never taken and never would take a Padawan. Explaining complex concepts like mind-healing was tiring. He did have some sympathies for the boy though, having had a late start in the temple himself. Eeth had been lucky that Master Ro had chosen him as a padawan.

“Like putting bacta on a wound, except the wound is here,” Eeth tried, placing a hand delicately on his breast. Padawan Skywalker still seemed confused, but nodded anyway. Eeth turned back to Knight Kenobi, who had stopped sputtering. “The initial session is right now, and I’ve been asked to escort you.”

“I know my way to the halls of healing,” Knight Kenobi said, a hint of irritation threaded through his voice. Eeth nodded patiently as the three set off down the hallway.

“I know that. You know that. However, Master Ro likes to _make sure_ that her patients don’t become _lost_ on their way to their sessions.” Eeth said, politely ignoring Padawan Skywalker’s exclamations on how _big_ everything was, and how he was glad there was no sand. Eeth also ignored (politely) Knight Kenobi’s answers to Padawan Skywalker’s questions, though he did make sure to note that Kenobi was far more patient than Eeth was at explanations. _Master will want to know about that_ , Eeth thought, already composing his datapad message in his head. Hopefully introducing these two to her also would make her get off his back on the grandpadawan front.


	4. A Point of View that Will Never be Attempted Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with Anakin's point of view. Never again. If it looks like I'm posting these first four chapters fast, it's because they're tiny. the other 10 are behemoths, and I will be posting once a week from now on! Enjoy these four!

Anakin gazed up at Obi-wan as the older man explained the function and history behind the pillars that Anakin had randomly pointed out. As Obi-wan talked, the less troubled he seemed to become, his initially stiff posture relaxing slightly, though never quite regaining the loose confidence that he had before that whole mess with the Sith.

Anakin had taken a liking to Obi-wan from the moment he’d met him. The older boy just felt right, like those hugs his mom would give Anakin whenever he said something that made her smile. While that immediate link had been somewhat damaged by the words that Obi-wan had said to Mister Qui-gon before the battle for Naboo, the older boy _had_ taken Anakin as a Padawan, so that had to amount to something. However, Anakin didn’t know how to feel about calling Obi-wan ‘Master.’ He hadn’t known how to feel about calling _Qui-gon_ ‘Master,’ but Anakin did notice that Obi-wan had called Qui-gon ‘Master,’ so maybe this was also something that would be explained to Anakin in time, if he asked. Obi-wan ran out of information on the pillars, and so Anakin pointed out a statue of a hooded figure, which Obi-wan seemed happy to talk about. Eventually, the man who looked similar to the Sith Obi-wan had fought, though he wasn’t nearly so colorful, led them through a door to a room that had a long table with datapads and chairs lining the walls. Spaced in between the chairs at even intervals were doors with nameplates attached. Immediately facing their entrance was a door that had the words “T’la Ro” printed neatly. The not-Sith waved to a couple of chairs.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” he said. Anakin liked his voice. “I will let Master Ro know you’ve arrived.” With that, the man walked over to the door and knocked. The door slid open as Anakin and Obi-wan took their seats, and the man walked in.

“Who was he?” Anakin whispered to Obi-wan. Obi-wan looked over and down, a surprised look on his face interlaced with a bit of guilt.

“Ah,” he said, “I forgot he didn’t introduce himself, forgive me, Anakin.” Anakin shrugged and smiled up at Obi-wan. “His name is Master Eeth Koth, or just Master Koth. He sits on the Jedi Council.” Before Anakin could say anything in response to that, Master Koth exited the room and waved them over.

“She’s ready for you,” he said. “I would advise you or warn you, but I believe she would simply throw something at me, and I enjoy not having a concussion.” Obi-wan let out a strained laugh. Anakin thought that sounded kind of scary, and Master Koth seemed to notice his trepidation. The Zabrak smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, her bark is worse than her bite.” Obi-wan made a strange, strangled noise at that and moved towards the door, Anakin following.

There was a tree with a face sitting behind a desk. What?

“Hello, young ones, I am T’la Ro.” The tree greeted them. Trees could talk? The tree smiled at Anakin. Trees could smile? “I can indeed talk, young one, amongst other talents.” Anakin blushed. She didn’t actually _look_ like a tree, now that he was looking. Well, she did, but it was like if you took a Standard Human and took away their nose and carved them out of wood. Moving wood. Oh, her _bark_ was worse than her bite. Master Koth had said a pun! Next to Anakin, Obi-wan bowed, and Anakin hastily copied him.

“Greetings, Master Ro,” Obi-wan said. Master Ro inclined her head back. Anakin wondered if her hair was roots or limbs.

“Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker. Please be seated.” Master Ro waved a long-fingered hand to two comfy looking chairs placed in front of her desk. With a glance at Anakin and an encouraging nod, Obi-wan sat in one. Anakin climbed into the other. “Shuura?” Master Ro said, sliding a plate in their direction. Anakin’s mouth watered and he looked over at Obi-wan, who smiled and nodded. Master Ro regarded the two carefully while they munched on their offered snacks. “This session is one for me, really, and not for you.” She said after a moment.

“How do you mean, might I ask?” Obi-wan said, carefully folding his hands into his lap. Anakin copied him, earning a small smile from the man. Master Ro also seemed to find Anakin’s actions amusing.

“I will not be the therapist that either of you end up with.” She explained. “This session will help me suss out which of our mind-healers would work best for which of you. For example, Knight Kenobi may end up with Master Sona, Anakin, while you may end up with Master Kno. Or, the two of you may end up with the same mind-healer. I don’t know which of those is true yet.” Obi-wan shifted slightly in his seat.

“Will this be a long session, then?” he asked. Master Ro steepled her fingers on the desk.

“That depends entirely on the both of you, young ones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger :)


	5. Therapy, or Interrogation? You Decide!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, okay. I lied. This is the last chapter for this week. I felt bad leaving it all on a cliff-hanger. Just a note, despite how it's framed, a lot of my focus is going to be on Obi-wan and Anakin, rather than T'la. Definitely, she will be getting attention because I like her character, but all that actually comes after this part of the series. Her character isn't explored much here, is what I'm saying.

Obi-wan shuffled his feet for the second time in as many minutes, internally cringing. He’d managed this long without seeing a mind-healer, and some small voice inside of him – one that sounded not-so-surprisingly like Bant – was whispering that maybe he should, for the sake of Anakin. Another, larger part of Obi-wan balked, voicing his doubts, that if the mind-healers knew how incompetent Obi-wan was, they would take Anakin away. Master Ro’s eyes – green and piercing – felt as though they were boring through Obi-wan’s soul.

“How does it depend on us?” Anakin asked Master Ro. _Fair question_ , Obi-wan thought, glancing out of the corner of his eye at his padawan. Padawan. _I’m too young for this. I’ll completely mess it up. Mess_ him _up_. Obi-wan thought, looking back at Master Ro. Luckily, she had turned her gaze on Anakin.

“If you talk to me and answer the questions that I have,” she said, shrugging slightly. “If this is done in a timely manner, you could get out of here in an hour or so. Of course, you don’t have to answer the questions, especially if they make you uncomfortable, but I still would need a verbal – spoken – response so I can take that into account.” That made sense.

“What are your questions?” Obi-wan asked, rubbing his thumb with his forefinger. _Better for us to know ahead of time_. Master Ro smiled.

“Just general questions about your past, and then some more hypothetical questions-” Master Ro kept her eyes on Anakin and elaborated, “questions about things that haven’t or might not happen – that will tell me how you feel about those hypotheticals and how you’d react. This will help me narrow down the mind-healer who’d be your best fit.”

“Would _you_ be one of those?” Anakin asked. Another fair question. Master Ro shook her head.

“There are two parts to our program.” She said. She picked a piece of lint from her robe-sleeve. “One is the mind-healing. I am a healer, and so is everyone here. That is supposed to be, while personal, more of a doctor-patient relationship.” Her eyes were still fixed on Anakin. “Do you understand what that means?”

“No,” Anakin answered. Obi-wan was a bit proud of him. _I don’t think I’d have been able to admit I didn’t know something at his age_. Thinking back, Obi-wan mentally snorted. _No, I_ know _I wouldn’t have admitted it_.

“That means the relationship is an entirely professional one. No matter how personal you get with your thoughts and feelings during the session, they are there to help you and make sure you leave the session feeling just a little more whole. The mind-healer is on your side, but they aren’t your friend. Understand?” Master Ro’s voice was profoundly serious. Obi-wan and Anakin nodded.

“Two parts?” Obi-wan asked. Which was a mistake. Those eyes locked on him again. Obi-wan fought the urge to squirm like a youngling with their fingers caught in the sweet-cake jar.

“The second part is what I will be to you.” Master Ro said. “We in the mind-healing wing know that in order to heal, there needs to be some kind of friendship or bond that happens. Every mind-healer has a little group that is, for lack of a better term, a ‘found-family.’ Now, typically in the Order, these are lineages. However, most of the people who come here have little to no lineage left.” Obi-wan flinched and Master Ro’s piercing eyes gentled slightly in sympathy. “This makes for a poor support system, so the rule is that every mind-healer who assesses someone is the beginning of that person’s support system.”

“So, you’re like a mom?” Anakin asked. His face was scrunched up, which Obi-wan found somewhat adorable and nostalgic: Quinlan had often made that face when they were younger. Force, Obi-wan _had_ to make sure that Anakin _never_ met Quinlan. That would be an absolute disaster! “But I already have a mom?”

“I’m certainly not a replacement, and I don’t have to be a mom. My role in the support system changes for each sentient in my group. For some, I’m more of an older sister, for others an aunt, and yes, a mother for quite a few others.” Obi-wan wasn’t sure if he was okay with that. Qui-gon had been sort of like a father-figure to him, and _his_ death had hurt enough. Master Ro paused to allow thinking time. A minute or so later, she sat back into her chair.

“Shall we begin?” she asked, switching her gaze from Obi-wan to Anakin and then back again. Obi-wan looked over at Anakin and took in just how nervous his padawan seemed.

“I’ll go first.” Obi-wan said, slipping his hands into his robe-sleeves to clench nervously at his elbows. Master Ro turned unnervingly knowing eyes on him and smiled, which, now that Obi-wan thought about it, looked weird when her mouth basically looked like a horizontal crack in wood. Her smiled widened.

“We’ll start off easy,” she said, in what Obi-wan supposed was a soothing manner. “Describe a typical day for you.” Obi-wan didn’t know what kind of typical day she meant, so decided to talk about the few times he was at the temple long enough to have a routine. “Have you ever come to the mind-healers before?” No, obviously not. Perhaps that response was a bit too caustic, but Master Ro had simply smiled, so Obi-wan figured he was in the clear. “What was it like growing up?” Now that was difficult, and Obi-wan had to stop and think.

“Somewhat…varied.” He settled with. Master Ro tilted her head to the side slightly as if asking him to extrapolate. When Obi-wan said nothing, she moved on.

“Did you feel safe?” Obi-wan almost said yes. The word was right at the tip of his tongue, and he was forming the word with his mouth already when he stopped. Did he? Qui-gon was safe, and protected him, but there were a lot of times – particularly early on in their partnership – when Qui-gon wasn’t around.

“I don’t know,” Obi-wan said, and was surprised by his own honesty. He peered at the fruit suspiciously. Was it drugged? No, that wouldn’t be ethical. He stayed silent for a moment with absolutely no inclination of extrapolation. Master Ro seemed to catch on.

“Have you ever thought of harming yourself or ending your life?” _Amazing, straight for the jugular_ , Obi-wan thought. He frowned. Did being ready to sacrifice your own life to save countless others count? He asked and felt Anakin’s attention glue itself to the side of Obi-wan’s head. Master Ro did something with the swirls over her eyes on her forehead that made it look like she was raising an eyebrow. “That isn’t something that we should discuss at the moment,” she said, and Obi-wan felt something like a boulder appear in his stomach. Somehow he knew that ‘for the sake of others’ wasn’t what Master Ro would deem acceptable.

“How connected do you feel to the people around you?” Meaning Bant, Siri, Garen, Reeft, Quinlan, and now Anakin? Pretty connected. Obi-wan said so and received a small, shy smile from Anakin. “What is the best complement you’ve ever received?” That was easy.

“‘I forsee you will become a great Jedi Knight,’” Obi-wan answered, quoting word for word the sentence that Qui-gon had spoken in the swamp on Naboo. He didn’t say who had said it, but Master Ro seemed to know anyway. Obi-wan felt the illogical need to add that Qui-gon had frequently commented on how quick Obi-wan was to pick up lessons, but didn’t think he should begin talking about that, lest he start crying.

“What is your happiest memory?” Qui-gon giving Obi-wan the river-rock on his thirteenth Lifeday. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Anakin mouthing ‘a river-rock?’ in confusion. “Name two positive values about yourself.” Ah. That was difficult. He was good with words, and he was good with flora and fauna. Those were _things_ that he was good _at_ , but at least he had answered the spirit of the question. “Here’s the last one,” Master Ro said. Obi-wan relaxed slightly. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Blast. Obi-wan shrugged and smiled, trying for disarming. He had dimples, and they usually worked for him. They didn’t this time. “Even if you don’t want to answer, I’d like that as a verbal answer,” Master Ro said.

“I…I don’t know, at the moment,” Obi-wan said. Master Ro nodded slowly.

“That is absolutely alright.” She slid the plate of fruit over to Obi-wan. “Padawan Skywalker, would you like to go now, or wait for a moment?” Obi-wan couldn’t decide if he liked her voice or not. It was kind of creaky, but whistled at the same time, like a tree. _She is basically a walking, talking plant, doofus_. Anakin shifted in his seat and looked over at Obi-wan. Obi-wan tried to smile as reassuringly as possible at his padawan. He didn’t think it worked, but Anakin turned back to Master Ro anyway.

“Now please,” Anakin said quietly. Or was that calmly? Obi-wan couldn’t tell. _I’m supposed to be his teacher, and I can’t tell whether he’s calm or nervous_.

“Same questions, though because you are from Tatooine and newly positioned here, I’ll reword some to fit that background, alright?” Master Ro said. Anakin nodded. “Describe a typical day from Tatooine.” As Anakin described a typical day working for Watto _as a slave_ , Obi-wan thought about Anakin’s mother. He had mentioned her earlier in the session, and now Obi-wan was wondering if leaving her there was the best idea. Surely Qui-gon had meant to return later and if not outright free her then buy _and then_ free her. If that was the case, Obi-wan had some work to do. Except he was temple-bound, so that might have to wait. “Have you ever been to a mind-healer before?”

“Didn’t even know what that was until the way over here.” Anakin answered. Master Ro tilted her head slightly, as she had for Obi-wan. This time the tilt yielded results. “I’ve never been to _any_ healer before. ‘Cept that time I broke my arm, but even then it was just to fix my arm, and I don’t think that guy was a healer anyway.” Obi-wan was definitely going to do what Qui-gon had _definitely_ meant to do. Master Ro nodded, and Obi-wan absently wondered where she was writing stuff down. Or maybe she was recording the session?

“What was your childhood like before now?” Anakin talked about his friends and mother, building his podracer and C-3PO, and even how Watto sometimes was tolerable. “Did you feel safe?” Which was a silly question, and Anakin said so.

“Mom was there, and I always felt safe with her around. But even though Watto’d never sell us separate-” Anakin turned and addressed Obi-wan “he wasn’t expecting me to win the race, ya know,” the little sunshine boy turned back to Master Ro, “there’d always be a chance he’d just sell us to someone worse, ‘cause he’d lost a bet or his shop wasn’t doing so good, so I didn’t feel safe about that. And the chip. I didn’t like that either. I’m glad it’s gone.”

“I’m glad, too,” Obi-wan murmured, earning a beaming smile from Anakin. _Sunshine boy indeed_ , Obi-wan thought.

“Have you ever thought of harming yourself or ending your life?” Master Ro asked after a moment where Obi-wan and Anakin exchanged smiles: more hesitant ones on Obi-wan’s part. Anakin immediately shook his head and answered in the negative. “How connected did you feel to the people around you on Tatooine?” Again, Anakin talked about his friends and mother. “What is the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

“Mom said she was proud of me ‘cause I brought hope to those who had none,” Anakin replied. There was some sadness in his voice when he talked about his mom. That cinched it. As soon as the temple-bound sentence was lifted, Obi-wan was going to Tatooine.

“What is your happiest memory?” Anakin talked about one of his Lifedays. “Name two positive values about yourself.” Anakin said he was good at fixing things and that his mother said he was kind. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Freeing slaves was Anakin’s reply. A bit ambitious, but understandable. Master Ro nodded and slid the plate to Anakin, who carefully picked up a slice of fruit.

“Alright. I have a good base to start from, and you’ve answered the questions promptly enough that we’ve finished in an hour!” Obi-wan started. It’d been that long? He hadn’t noticed. “I won’t have your mind-healer picked out for a day or two, so check your pad every morning until you get my message with the appointment schedules.” Tapping her fingers on the desk made an odd _tick tick tick_ sound that was almost hypnotic to Obi-wan. “Additionally, aside from your mind-healing session once a week, there is a weekly ‘family’ dinner in my quarters that you are obligated to attend. That starts this week and is tomorrow. Others will be there, and the only excuses for not attending are being on mission or being in the healing wing.” Obi-wan nodded and took the dinner…not quite invite as a sign that the session was over. He stood up, quickly followed by Anakin. Master Ro also stood up, and stood, and kept standing. She was at least eight feet tall. Obi-wan hadn’t expected that. Master Ro smiled.

“All my height is in my roots,” she said, holding out a hand across the desk. Obi-wan shook it, and then she extended the same hand to Anakin, who also shook it. “I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow in my quarters at 18:00 sharp. You can bring a dish if you like, but you’re new so you won’t be in the rotation for food just yet.” Obi-wan nodded again, quickly. “I’ll send you my quarter numbers later today. Go ahead and escape, I’m not the final boss.” Obi-wan bowed, took Anakin’s hand in his, and attempted to stroll casually out the door. He thought he managed to stride somewhat unevenly, which was better than running like a bantha out of hell.

“Will it always be like that?” Anakin asked as they sailed out of the halls of healing towards the direction their new rooms were in. Obi-wan grimaced slightly and then schooled his face. _Don’t let him pick up my bad habits_ , Obi-wan reminded himself.

“No, I don’t believe so,” he answered. Calmly, he hoped.


	6. The Dreaded Family Dinner...Hold the Turkey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an "As You Like It" reference in here. Points if you can spot it!

T’la glanced at the chronometer as she helped Eeth stir-fry some tubers. “They should be showing up soon,” she said. Eeth looked over from where he was judicially applying enough spices to the stir-fry to make T’la’s non-existent nose water.

“Mace said he’d be a bit late,” Eeth replied, “and Shasa will show up five minutes early, like always.”

“Otherwise, everyone else will be here exactly at 18:00, eh?” T’la said jokingly, recounting the dishes that had been set out. “Do you think we have enough counter space?” Eeth just sighed and continued adding more spices. “Don’t you think that’s enough spice?”

“No, not until my eyes water.”

“That’s horrid. My eyes don’t water and they’re watering already.”

“The way you survive on sunshine is horrid, my taste-bud-less Master”

“Point taken,” T’la said, “I won’t judge your dietary habits.” Just before Eeth could make a surely scathing comeback, the chime rang. “I’ll just get that,” T’la said, escaping from the kitchen. Pressing her hand on the pad, the door slid open to reveal Knight Galvi Rirr with her customary Arkanian sweet milk (for the adults and non-tree species only) and Dolmadakia. “Evening, Galvi!” T’la said cheerily. The pale Arkanian Jedi grinned back, slipping in through the door and setting the night’s contribution onto the meal-table.

“I’ve heard,” Galvi paused significantly and tilted her head, “that we have new,” she righted her head back up straight, “siblings.” T’la smiled mysteriously, though she could tell that Galvi didn’t buy it. That little smirk and tuck of non-existent hair over her ear said it all.

“I certainly hope so,” T’la demurred.

“Yes, there are new siblings coming tonight.” Eeth said, entering the room with his spicy stir-fry in one of T’la’s nice bowls.

“Spoilsport. _You_ are washing that.” T’la said. Eeth rolled his eyes but nodded. Galvi grinned and slung her arm around Eeth’s shoulders.

“It must be so nice being the normal sibling,” she cooed in Eeth’s ear. Before Eeth could answer, the chime rang again. T’la turned and palmed open the door.

“I hope we’re not late,” Padawan Zabu Lomrix said, salad in hand and xer Master Phandrire Sede in tow. “Is Shasa here yet, or did our plan to beat him work this time?”

“Is that why you’re all here before him?” T’la asked, gently taking the salad and accepting a hug from the young Falleen. “Sadly, Shasa isn’t here yet, and Mace is going to be late. Galvi’s already at the meal-table terrorizing poor Eeth, and we’re waiting on two new siblings.”

“Oh, you’re here already, are you?” That was Knight Shasa Pulas. Zabu turned and nodded. The Nabooian knight smiled and hugged the younger Jedi before nodding to Phandrire. “That’s certainly new, you all being here before me.”

“We beat you here,” Zabu said, crowing. Xe flashed a grin at the Knight while xe fiddled with xer robe-sleeves.

“And Galvi’s here too,” Phandrire added. Shasa chuckled.

“Truly, I’ve been beaten!” Shasa kissed T’la’s cheek, took the salad from her, and the three entered the rooms and headed into the living room. T’la stayed by the door, looking at the living room from a slight way away. Zabu appeared to immediately join Galvi in teasing Eeth – who immediately deepened his put-upon look – while Shasa and Phandrire had engaged each other in conversation. There was a palpable air of contentment and love which T’la closed her eyes to bask in for a moment. If she kept her eyes closed, she could just imagine Master Undo, Djem, and Saam there as well: Djem and Saam heckling their padawan-sibling, each other, and themselves while Master Undo reigned supreme in philosophizing and debating. A peacefulness settled over T’la Ro, the force squeezing around her essence in a hug. _Thank you_ , she sent to the force, _for all of the bad moments, I have been gifted with many more wonderful ones_. The Force squeezed once more before falling away, and the door chimed. _That should be Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker_ , she thought.

“Everyone, before I answer this,” T’la didn’t raise her voice, but she didn’t need to. Immediately, her little family’s attention was on her. “This is likely our new members, so please remember your first evening-meal here and don’t traumatize them too much.” Ignoring Glavi’s muttering of ‘how much is too much?’ T’la palmed open the door. As she had suspected, Knight Obi-wan Kenobi and Padawan Anakin Skywalker were standing on the other side, Obi-wan awkwardly holding a covered bowl and plate while Anakin had a sack-like package clutched to his chest, though not tightly, T’la noticed. She smiled welcomingly, and Obi-wan twitched. “Come in, come in,” she said, stepping to the side. Anakin was the first in, bouncing a little and then skidding to a halt when he saw that all eyes were on them from the living room. Obi-wan entered more hesitantly, eyeing the others wearily.

“Fresh meat!” Galvi shouted, and then clapped a hand over her mouth in mortification. Obi-wan stared at her with wide eyes and Anakin looked about ready to bolt. “Sorry,” Galvi mumbled through her four fingers, “I have a problem with my mouth-filtration. I’m working on not letting my mouth move when I think.”

“When Galvi thinks she must speak,” Zabu added. “I’m Zabu, who’re you?”

“Anakin,” Anakin replied. Obi-wan opened his mouth and then closed it, uncertain. “This is Obi-wan!”

“Should we do introductions now, or should we wait for our last member to arrive?” T’la asked, craning her neck to look at the chronometer. “He should be here in the next few minutes.”

“Introductions now,” Zabu said conspiratorially, “and then we all pretend to be best friends and we don’t know _him_ when he gets here. He’ll be so confused!”

“Who?” Anakin asked. He and Obi-wan walked into the living room and placed their contributions onto the already laden table.

“The late sibling of our little family,” Zabu replied. Xe patted Anakin on the head, much like one would a beloved tooka. Then again, xe did that to everyone, T’la noted, remembering the first time she’d met the Falleen. A tiny little initiate who’d taken one look up at the 8 foot tall humanoid tree and made grabby hands like xe wanted to be picked up. When T’la had humored the little one, Zabu had immediately patted T’la’s head just as xe was patting Anakin’s. The small human took the patting in stride and stretched up to pat xem back. Zabu beamed and squatted slightly so that Anakin had an easier time.

“Late?” Obi-wan asked, looking first at Eeth, and then T’la. T’la smiled.

“Perhaps Zabu worded that a bit poorly. He contacted us earlier and said that he was going to be late because of a meeting.”

“If Eeth was able to come,” Galvi paused significantly, “ _he_ should be able to.” Galvi muttered, and then stiffened. Eyes wide, she whipped her head around to stare incredulously at Eeth. “Are you _skipping out_ on your _duties_?” Eeth gaped.

“No!” he shouted.

“I dunno,” Zabu said, still patting Anakin’s head. Xe was also eyeing Obi-wan’s head like xe wanted to pat his head as well. Obi-wan had noticed and was inching away from the Falleen. “Eeth does skip down the halls when he thinks no one’s looking.” Eeth shrilly denied ever having done such a thing and T’la was quick to make a rebuttal.

“He did that every standard day when he was my padawan,” T’la said, immensely enjoying the look of pure betrayal on Eeth’s face. It was purely for show, of course, to make Anakin and Obi-wan relax a little.

“I’m Shasa,” the Nabooian Knight said, reaching out a hand to Obi-wan first, and then Anakin.

“I’m Phandrire,” the Corellian said, nodding her head and winking. “The little _eharl_ Zabu is my beloved padawan.”

“Phandrire is the aunt of the group by a unanimous vote,” T’la added. “Eeth called her ‘Auntie Phan’ for quite some time when he was younger.”

“Can I call you that?” Anakin asked, staring up at the Corellian with wide blue eyes. Phandrire’s grin widened and she nodded. Anakin let out a quiet whoop before attaching himself to Obi-wan’s side. T’la looked at the chronometer again before shrugging in her species’ way: rustling the roots of her hair.

“Since he’s running a tad later than expected, I’ll pre-introduce our last member. Mace Windu. He’s a member of the council, like Eeth.” Anakin gazed up at her with wide eyes.

“Master Windu comes here?” Obi-wan’s question was a quiet one, meant for T’la only. The others politely pretended they weren’t hearing the conversation, which was a first. Zabu sidled over to Eeth and Galvi to continue in their heckling while Shasa and Phandrire engaged each other in yet another riveting conversation about legislation in the Senate. T’la leaned in slightly and kept her voice low.

“He’s been coming here since he was a padawan,” she replied, understanding the underlying question: Master Windu does therapy? So, T’la gave Obi-wan a timeframe. If he understood that Masters of the Order willingly went to therapy, perhaps he would consider continuing past the required 6 months. Might not work, but it was worth a shot. So many people thought that therapy meant that you were broken or there was something wrong with you, but T’la held the strong opinion that everyone needed to go to therapy. Even therapists.

“Is he as scary outside the Council chambers as he is inside?” Anakin asked, keeping his voice impressively low. Though, T’la considered, that could likely be because he had been a slave. Being able to talk quietly at a young age would have been a boon to his mother. As for the question…

“Mace is once of those people who looks scary when they are happy. One time he laughed, and I swear it made the air-traffic stop on Coruscant for a whole five minutes.” T’la said gently. “He’s also the Master of the Order. If he said anything that scared you, it’s because the Temple is counting on him to make the right decisions constantly.”

“Like what?” Anakin asked. T’la was pleased to note he was looking less wary.

“Like how we deal with the Senate and how we should interpret the Code in a given situation. Of course, Grandmaster Yoda is there as well, but a lot of the decisions fall on Mace’s shoulders, and it’s a heavy load.” Anakin seemed confused. “Think of it like this. Your Mama has decisions to make everyday, and those decisions are doubled because you’re also impacted by them. If she makes the wrong decision…”

“I also get hurt, not just her.” Anakin finished, nodding his head in understanding. Obi-wan wrapped his hands over Anakin’s shoulders and lightly squeezed, smiling down at the boy. T’la looked away from the little moment, and at that moment, the door chimed. _Good timing, Mace_.

“Hello, Mace!” T’la greeted the Korun as the door closed behind him. Mace sighed and shook his head, then stepped forward and graciously allowed T’la to envelope him in a short hug. Mace took in Obi-wan and Anakin’s presence, muttered something along the lines of ‘I knew it,’ and attempted to smile at the two. The smile came through as more of a grimace, though T’la was proud to note that the corners of his mouth did indeed tip upwards just the slightest bit. Anakin seemed a little trepidatious, but soon smiled back. Obi-wan nodded politely.

“So!” T’la clapped her hands together. “Let’s begin evening-meal!”

Evening-meal was a roudy thing, food spread across the surface and being passed every which way, sometimes by the Force until Mace would crack down on those ‘improper uses of the Force.’ Then, there would be a few seconds of regular hand-to-hand passing before the Force would be used again. There was talking, there was heckling, and T’la basked in her spot in the sun, allowing her body to photosynthesize the rays as her own form of food. It didn’t take long – to T’la’s absolute delight – for Obi-wan to join in on the heckling, much to Shasa’s seeming surprise. Anakin mainly had questions, which Obi-wan would try to answer to the best of his ability, and T’la was pleased to note that when he didn’t know something well enough to explain properly, Obi-wan began to look to Phandrire and Shasa for help, which they were glad to give. Zabu and Anakin seemed to instantly become best friends through their love of piloting, though they had some spirited differences over the effectiveness of different kinds of pod-racers. T’la herself spoke with most of the table, joined in the heckling, was heckled herself, and loved every moment of it.

At the end of the evening when T’la was once again alone in her rooms, she opened herself up to the Force and asked it a question: _Is this the way_? The Forced hugged her snugly back reassuringly. T’la smiled, sensing that little bit of Master Undi, Djem, and Saam that helped make up the whole of the force.


	7. Obi-wan's Sort of Okay Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! This one's a bit later than I will usually be posting, mainly because I'm working as a temp in our local Division of Elections Office, and we were working with the tabulators and tablets today. All day. There was one tabulator that I nicknamed R2D2 because that sucker just didn't like taking any ballots that weren't facing backwards and upside down. Which, I think, is a very R2 thing to do. Hence, R2D2. 
> 
> ANYWAY, just a couple of things: I KNOW that Quinlan was in Mos Espa when Qui-gon, Padme, and Jar Jar found Anakin, but Obi-wan doesn't know that. Also, I decided for this that Quinlan and Aayla were on a Shadow mission, and so wouldn't have told Obi-wan the truth about where they were going. 
> 
> ADDITIONALLY: I don't know too much about Garen and Reeft, so until I know their characters better, this is pretty much the only time they're going to be in this story. I really need to read Jedi Apprentice.
> 
> That was a long note. Have fun reading! Next week should be posted about midday, as per usual. This week was just weird.

Obi-wan had been checking his pad, as ordered, first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening. The previous evening had been full of unexpected merriment, an experience that Obi-wan had at first felt was fun but then had just felt guilty. Shouldn’t there be some mourning period? But even if there was, Obi-wan couldn’t take it, he had a padawan to look after.

He had checked the pad before he’d gone to bed to pretend to sleep after they had returned. And now, after a sleepless night that Obi-wan had spent solely meditating on nothing, he was checking it again as he cooked some porridge on the heat. He’d already washed and cut quite a few fresh vegetables, making sure to have enough for a growing boy. Like the previous evening, there were no notifications. Sighing, Obi-wan deemed the porridge ready and spooned it into two bowls, one heaped with more than the other. That was Anakin’s bowl. A ding. Obi-wan picked the pad back up and pulled up the notification.

“ _Jedi Knight Obi-wan Kenobi scheduled for Taungsday at 10:00 with Healer Ler Ku in suite JX in the Mind-healer’s wing._

_Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker scheduled for Taungsday at 10:00 with Healer Ojoth Jalanam in suite TXI in the Mind-healer’s wing._ ”

“And so it begins,” Obi-wan said with a sigh. At least it was Centaxday. That gave him and Anakin a full day to get used to being in a teacher-student dynamic. He’d gotten some helpful tips from Phandrire the night before. One of which being…

“Anakin, are you awake?” Obi-wan called through Qui-gon’s door. No, Anakin’s door. It was Anakin’s now. A muffled affirmation trickled through. “First-meal is ready.”

“Okay!” Anakin called through the door. Once Obi-wan heard rustling, he headed back into the kitchen. Qui-gon had never gotten around to finding a meal-table at the Quartermaster’s, so they had generally taken their meals at the kitchen counter. The stools were comfortable and had two sets of rungs for two different sizes of people, so Obi-wan hadn’t thought about changing it. The plants that covered almost every inch of the rooms were a mixture of his and Qui-gon’s. The colors, the dishes, the furniture all had the touch of Qui-gon that made Obi-wan’s heart ache all the more. A sudden movement to Obi-wan’s left had his hand twitch slightly before he turned that twitch into a movement to hand Anakin his bowl.

Having had porridge for the first-meal for the last weeks on the orders of the healer, Anakin poured himself some blue milk, added some fruit, glanced over at Obi-wan, added some more fruit, glanced over again, and Obi-wan smiled and nudged the fruit bowl closer to Anakin, who took the hint and added the amount of fruit that he wanted. Only after Anakin had finished serving himself did Obi-wan slowly put together his own porridge toppings. A splash of blue milk and about a handful of fruit. They ate in silence, though neither thought the silence to be stilted in any way. It was early, and while both were used to waking early, neither was that much of a morning person. Like knew like, and talking too much was off both of their books until after the first-meal had been finished and the dishes had been cleaned.

Once breakfast was cleared away, Obi-wan sat Anakin down on the lumpy couch that he distantly noted he should probably replace. “Our appointments and therapists have been scheduled,” Obi-wan said, “both are for Taungsday at the same time, though with different therapists.”

“Who’s mine?” Anakin asked. He was sitting cross-legged on the couch with his hands holding onto his ankles. A position that Qui-gon had scolded Obi-wan for in the past, but that was the past, and that was Qui-gon. Only Qui-gon could sit normally on that lumpy couch without being supremely uncomfortable, so Obi-wan said nothing about the position and instead answered Anakin’s question. “Wizard!” Anakin said. _Wizard, indeed_ , Obi-wan thought wryly.

“Since that’s tomorrow, I thought we might spend today getting used to each other and finding out what our boundaries are.” Obi-wan said. Anakin’s nose wrinkled as he thought about the proposition. Finally, he nodded and smiled at Obi-wan, who was hard-pressed to do anything but smile back.

“Boundaries like when Mom says that I shouldn’t touch the nice plates?” Anakin asked. “Or like when back in Mos Espa my friends and I knew where not to go because the sleemo depur didn’t want us there?” Obi-wan didn’t quite know how to answer that analogy, so just answered that he supposed that was similar.

“However, in addition to where not to go for your own safety, I mean small rules for the apartment. Did your mother ever tell you not to run indoors, or have days when she couldn’t hug you?” Anakin nodded to both. “Boundaries like those.” Anakin nodded again, understanding lighting up his face. “They can also be added to later, if you like, in case we forget to add something today.” Qui-gon hadn’t done this with Obi-wan, though something deep in Obi-wan’s chest felt like there would have been less…less… _something_ if he had. No, the boundaries conversation had been a suggestion of Master Phandrire’s. Or Auntie Phan’s. Obi-wan still hadn’t decided what to call her.

“Sounds wizard, Obi-wan!” Anakin said. Well, Obi-wan sure hoped so. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. _Kark, I have absolutely_ no idea _what I’m doing_. He tried not to broadcast that to the force, with Anakin staring at Obi-wan with that smile on his face. Obi-wan attempted a smile back.

“I’m glad you think so, Anakin.”

“I told ya you can call me ‘Ani’,” Anakin said with an over-exaggerated pout. Obi-wan smiled again and it felt more real.

“Alright, Ani.” Anakin smiled that beaming smile again. Perhaps, Obi-wan thought, this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He and Anakin spent the next two hours hashing out different rules and boundaries, both trying to keep from prying too much at obvious raw wounds if some boundary seemed extremely specific. For lunch, they headed to the refectory and Anakin piled his plate with many things that Obi-wan was fairly sure shouldn’t be consumed by humanoids though Anakin insisted that he’d eaten them before on Tatooine. Obi-wan had grabbed a sandwich and two juices (Anakin had forgotten to grab one) while secretly mourning the more flavorful foods that one could find on Mandalore. As they ate, Anakin started when a weight descended upon Obi-wan’s shoulders, causing the young Knight to grunt.

“He-ey, Nobes.” The familiar voice of Quinlan said. Obi-wan grimaced at Anakin before turning to his kind-of-friend.

“Quinlan,” Obi-wan said, “I thought you were on _Ryloth_ with Aayla.” The Kiffar grinned widely and squeezed Obi-wan tightly. Obi-wan saw worry spark in his friend’s eyes.

“We decided to cut our losses!” Quinlan said. Anakin yelped and Obi-wan glanced over to see that Aayla had flopped into the seat next to his Padawan and was grinning at Anakin with much the same smile that Quinlan was using on Obi-wan.

“Negotiations were short, then?” Obi-wan asked, trying to deflect. Quinlan noticed. _Damn_ , Obi-wan thought. His friend’s eyes sharpened.

“You could say that,” he said. “I’ve been hearing some…rumors around the temple, Nobes.” Obi-wan very much didn’t like where this was headed. Nor did he like the gleam in Quinlan’s eyes. Why were his friends so over-protective? Was it a curse? “I _heard_ that you’re the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a thousand years.” Curse, yes. Obi-wan was definitely cursed. “Nobes, how did that happen?” Obi-wan twitched slightly and glanced over at his Padawan again. Aayla had started a conversation about hardwiring speeders. What _had_ Quinlan been teaching her? “Only what she needs to survive, Nobie.” Obi-wan scowled.

“Will you stop that?” he said. “It’s downright rude.” Quinlan’s smile softened and the arm around Obi-wan loosened.

_You haven’t closed off our bond_ , Quinlan said. Through the bond. Obi-wan sighed.

_I haven’t closed off the bonds I have with anyone_ , Obi-wan responded.

“Good, because I was the distraction,” Quinlan said with a laugh.

“Obi!” A pair of webbed hands attached themselves to Obi-wan’s head, covering his eyes. “Who is it?” Obi-wan felt a certain level of calm descend upon him as he reached out with the force to find Bant, Reeft, and Garen behind him. Obi-wan smiled.

“Hi Bant.”

“Obi?” Anakin seemed to have either finished his conversation with Aayla (and Obi-wan was glad that Anakin seemed to have made another friend, potentially) or had been distracted by the arrival of yet more people.

“You must be Anakin!” Bant said. She sat down on Obi-wan’s other side while Garen and Reeft both squeezed Obi-wan’s shoulder before circling the table to sit by Aayla and Anakin. “I’m Bant, nice to meet you!” Anakin looked over at Obi-wan before smiling widely at Bant.

“Ani, Bant is from a planet that’s mostly water,” Obi-wan said, enjoying the awe that immediately spread across Akakin’s face. “Bant, Anakin is from a desert planet.”

“What’s that like?” Bant and Anakin asked each other at the same time. They laughed and then began discussing their respective home-planets. As Obi-wan continued eating his sandwich, Quinlan’s arm still wrapped around his shoulders in a comforting not-hug, Anakin smiling and laughing, and with Obi-wan surrounded by his friends, some small part of the hurt and grief that had resulted from Qui-gon’s death drifted away into the Force. The rest of the day was spent in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, the group being joined by Zabu and Master Phandrire close to evening-meal.


	8. Let's Play 20 Questions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: there are mentions in this chapter of panic attacks and derealization. IF YOU ARE A PERSON WHO SUFFERS FROM THESE TWO THINGS, please take this as a small trigger warning. There is another chapter where the actual trigger warning will be, but if your condition (especially for derealization) is triggered by a mention, please please please be careful. 
> 
> Other than that, my lovely readers, enjoy the read! 
> 
> ~Rozu_chan

Finally, after a day of laughs and a night blessedly free of nightmares – or visions, though those had been surprisingly scant in the last few months Obi-wan had been a padawan – the day of mandatory therapy dawned. To Obi-wan’s consternation, Coruscant was bright and sunny: an absolutely gorgeous day. Some small part of him that still felt like he was 13 years old and desperate had been convinced that the weather would reflect his mood. Alas, that was not the case. Semi-moodily, Obi-wan prepared tea and milk and mixed together hot cereal for himself and Anakin. Once the tea and milk had been poured and the hot cereal was almost finished, Obi-wan meandered over to Anakin’s door and knocked.

“Are you awake?” he asked. Sometimes, Anakin would have been awake for an hour already, and sometimes he would still be asleep. Obi-wan was never able to figure out his padawan’s schedule. Or his own. He should probably work on that, in all honesty. This uncertainty couldn’t be good for Anakin.

“I’ll be out in a bit!” Anakin said, and Obi-wan heard his feet patting around the room. Obi-wan nodded to himself and hurried back to the kitchen before the hot cereal could burn. As a last-minute thought before Anakin entered the kitchen, Obi-wan chopped up some fruit to add to the cereal. With a quick ‘thank you,’ Anakin sat down on his stool next to Obi-wan and tucked into the meal with as much vigor as a Tooka who hadn’t eaten in three standard minutes. The two sat in silence as they ate, still early enough in the morning that talking wasn’t that attractive of an activity. Additionally, Obi-wan distantly acknowledged that he didn’t want to broach the ever-present shadow of ‘the therapy thing’ just then. Fortunately – or unfortunately, rather – Obi-wan wasn’t the one to bring ‘the therapy thing’ up. That was Anakin. Which meant that Obi-wan couldn’t dodge the meeting. Because he was now a role-model.

“So, what time did we need to be there?” the boy asked. Obi-wan checked the chronometer.

“10:00 hours.” Obi-wan answered. Everything was feeling kind of distant. _Shock, maybe?_ Obi-wan wondered. Anakin also looked at the chronometer and noted that the time was 09:30.

“Maybe we should go now, so we’re early?” Anakin said, shoveling the last bit of hot cereal into his mouth. The boy had piled a bit of every fruit onto his, and then upon looking at Obi-wan’s bowl with only hot cereal, had managed to pile the rest of the prepared fruit into Obi-wan’s bowl. The proportions of hot cereal to fruit was a bit off, in Obi-wan’s opinion, but he’d eaten it anyway. The older man sighed internally and scooped the remainder of his hot cereal up at the same pace as Anakin, all the while bemoaning the fact that his padawan seemed to be _extremely_ interested in therapy. Well, so had Obi-wan, back in the early days of his apprenticeship with Qui-gon, but circumstance and Obi-wan’s own guilt over numerous mistakes he’d made had knocked that interest right out of Obi-wan’s periphery. Anakin, it seemed, would likely never grow out of that want as Obi-wan had, and he supposed that _that_ might not be such a bad thing.

“Yes,” Obi-wan said at last, finishing off the last of his hot cereal, “let us go now, Anakin.”

“You _can_ call me Ani, ya know.” Anakin said, looking up at Obi-wan as he busted the plates to the sink. His eyes were wide and blue, wholly innocent with a hint of shadow that hinted at the past life that he’d lived: that his mother was still living. _Oh Force help me, I’m attached_. Obi-wan thought. He tried to smile at Anakin, and thought it may have worked, as the little ray of sunshine practically beamed back.

“Alright, _Ani_ ,” Obi-wan said, “let us go.” And so they went. The trip to the halls seemed to pass in mere seconds to Obi-wan, and he barely remembered the walk over: just a vague sense that Anakin had talked about droids the entire trip while Obi-wan had hummed at the right moments. That had been happening more frequently lately, as had that odd feeling that he was viewing his life through a hololense. However, Obi-wan was still quite sure that nothing was wrong. He was still able to function perfectly fine, despite those moments. Obi-wan and Anakin checked in at the front desk and sat in the waiting area to be called.

“What d’you think we’ll talk about?” Anakin asked, looking around at the walls. They were different from the rest of the temple: hand painted masterpieces of different kinds of art from all around the Republic and beyond, right on the wall as a giant mural. One part of the mural right in front of where Obi-wan and Anakin were sitting was a figure of a Nautolan, made up entirely from words from their native language. Anakin eyed this curiously. Obi-wan shrugged in answer.

“I will assume nothing,” Obi-wan said, “as I had expected something quite different from our discussion with Master Ro.”

“T’la’s so wizard!” Anakin beamed up at Obi-wan. Obi-wan smiled back. So far, _everything_ in the temple had been granted the title of ‘wizard’ from the young padawan. Obi-wan found it quite charming.

“Anakin Skywalker?” A voice startled the pair, and they looked over to see a tall Togrutan male standing steadily in a doorway. He was entirely blue and he didn’t have the white striped camouflage that most of his peers would have had. His montrals indicated that he was fully grown. Anakin looked over uncertainly at Obi-wan, who smiled in the most reassuring way he could while lightly prodding Anakin to go. Anakin smiled back and hopped out of his chair to trot over to the Togrutan. Before they vanished into the room beyond, another voice cut in to call for Obi-wan. The speaker was a Selonian female. Her fur was pure white with shimmering silver and darker grey semi-circle splashes all over, with stripes on her face and muzzle, and her eyes were an icy blue. Obi-wan strode over to her, nodding respectfully as she led the way back into her office. As Obi-wan entered, he heard the door for Anakin’s therapist being shut.

“Your padawan is with Healer Ojoth Jalanam,” Obi-wan’s therapist said. “Merrily met, I am called Ler Ku.” She bowed, and Obi-wan bowed back, and scrambled for the proper response. It had been some time since he’d heard _that_ Jedi greeting. Actually, he’d only really _read_ about it.

“Merry meet, I am called Obi-wan Kenobi.” Obi-wan finally recalled. Healer Ku’s whiskers twitched in her species’ version of a smile and she motioned her clawed hand towards a surprisingly comfortable looking seat.

“Please sit. Today is one of introduction.” She and Obi-wan sat, almost opposite each other. Healer Ku had sat just to the left off center, which Obi-wan found a lot less imposing than dead center. “We shall exchange questions, one to one. My questions will, of course, be quite a bit more…medically directed at times. When you don’t wish to answer something, you can pass.” Obi-wan nodded in agreement and slid his hands into his sleeves to grasp at his elbows. “Shall I start?” Obi-wan smiled and nodded once more: there was an electric feeling in his veins that he categorized as nerves, which also made his mouth gum up. Healer Ku’s whiskers twitched once again.

“What’s your favorite holonovel?” She asked. Obi-wan jolted at the unexpected question. His mind blanked for a moment before he forcibly rebooted it.

“Lord of the Rings,” he managed to worm past his teeth. Healer Ku chuffed and then gestured for him to ask a question. “What’s yours?” He asked, not exactly knowing what else to say. Healer Ku’s whiskers curled forwards.

“I am quite fond of many, though I keep coming back to those terribly written one-credit pocket murder mysteries,” she admitted, “for some reason I just can’t stop, though how their grammatical structure works is oftentimes beyond me.” Obi-wan had to laugh at that, though he made sure to hide it behind a palm. Healer Ku laughed with him, however. “Oh, I know it’s hilarious,” she said between chuffs, “I get teased for it all the time.” When the laughter died down, she nodded. “A good set of first questions. Next, I suppose, shall be: what’s your favorite activity outside of missions?” Obi-wan hesitated. There were a lot of things that he did, but all of them – aside from reading holonovels – pertained to his training in some way. The closest thing would be…

“Talking with my friends,” Obi-wan said, then felt the need to elaborate. “Mainly Bant, Reeft, Garen, and Quinlan.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “Favorite music?”

“Children’s songs,” Healer Ku replied, “some of them are quite gruesome, which intrigues me to no end. Favorite food?”

“Anything from Dex’s Diner that doesn’t have hoi broth,” Obi-wan said, “I’m allergic. Yours?”

“Raw bantha steak. When was the first time you experienced death?” Obi-wan shifted, on the verge of mental whiplash. He raised an eyebrow and Healer Ku twitched her ears as a shrug. _Well_ , Obi-wan thought, _she did say that some of her questions would be medically directed_. To lie wouldn’t help, he knew. That information could be easily looked up.

“Thirteen standard.” The questions continued, varying between personal and medical. Obi-wan did pass quite a few of the questions, mainly ones pertaining to Qui-gon and some other points in his past, like Melida/Daan. To his surprise and quiet relief, Healer Ku also passed some of the questions he’d asked, though he’d made sure not to ask anything about her clan or homeworld (which would have been rude). Near the end of the session, Healer Ku called the question session to an end and gazed consideringly at Obi-wan. 

“I have not failed to notice that any questions that you passed on answering either directly or indirectly involved Master Jinn.” She said. Her icy-blue gaze seemed to pierce through Obi-wan’s soul. Obi-wan slid his hands back into his sleeves. “This is something we will come back to in the future, though not this session.” Obi-wan felt his stomach untwist slightly. “I do want to ask if there’s anything that we can discuss which is even slightly bothersome to you on a day-to-day or even weekly basis.” Obi-wan twitched, letting his mind go back to his occasional lapses in concentration he’d noticed on the walk over from his quarters. Was this what she meant?

“Sometimes I have lapses in concentration when walking from one place to another within the temple.” He said, hesitating for a moment until Healer Ku motioned for him to continue. “And sometimes, I slip into a feeling like I’m watching my own life like a holovid. As though nothing here is real.” Healer Ku nodded.

“Does this often come with moments of anxiety, such as trouble breathing or almost uncontrollable panic?” Obi-wan was about to protest before Healer Ku held up a paw. “Even if the panic is controllable, even if you can be panicking on the inside whilst reporting to the High Council themselves, I would still like to know.” Obi-wan nodded jerkily. “I won’t ask if you’ve experienced trauma recently,” she continued drily, and Obi-wan huffed in defeated amusement, “but this may be an instance of what we call derealization. We will, of course, need more sessions to accurately diagnose the issue, and I absolutely will _not_ diagnose only after one meeting.” Obi-wan nodded in understanding. “Are there any more questions or concerns that you have for me?”

“Is it always so distressing?” He couldn’t stop himself and held back a wince. Healer Ku looked down at her lap to ponder the question.

“The sensation, or therapy?” She asked, giving the Knight an escape. Obi-wan knew by then that she wouldn’t pursue the question further if he chose the easy escape.

“The sensation,” Obi-wan said, finally. Healer Ku tilted her head in a surprisingly avian manner.

“It can be,” she answered. “Unfortunately, this sensation isn’t highly treatable, and most patients go through therapy for it but find that not thinking about the sensation and just continuing on with their lives is the best way to…well…best the sensation.” Obi-wan grimaced. “However, as I said, I’m not diagnosing you at this moment. I won’t for quite a few sessions.” Obi-wan nodded. He was doing a lot of nodding. _So much for being a negotiator_. “Any last questions or concerns before we end our session today?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, if you do come up with questions, you can send a comm-message and I’ll respond when I’m able. No need to wait for the next session.”

“Much appreciated, Healer Ku.”

“May the Force go with you, Knight Kenobi.”

“…May the Force go with _you_ , Healer Ku.”

Anakin was somewhat subdued after joining Obi-wan in the waiting area. His session had gone on a bit longer than Obi-wan’s, and Obi-wan didn’t ask any questions, deciding that Anakin would talk about the sessions if he wanted to, and Obi-wan wouldn’t push. Anakin _did_ say – once they’d returned to their quarters – that Healer Jalanam had also been a slave. Obi-wan nodded and made mid-meal.

After mid-meal, a surprise came in the form of a comm-message. It was Senator – now Chancellor – Palpatine, and he was wondering if Anakin would like to visit the Chancellor offices. Obi-wan sent a polite reply that they would not be able to leave the temple for the foreseeable future due to everything that had happened at Naboo, by order of the Council, and washed his hands of it. Anakin seemed vaguely disappointed but not too bothered, focusing instead on his Galactic Basic learning module. He told Obi-wan that Aayla and Zabu had challenged him to finish five modules by the following day. If he did, they would teach him how to catch the temple mouse-droids, which were apparently harder to catch than the Tatooine ones. Likely because initiates and padawans kept trying to catch them, as Obi-wan pointed out. Anakin laughed and continued with his learning module. Obi-wan picked up his pad and opened one of his favorite holonovels.

‘ _Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party,_ ’ Obi-wan read. Something inside of him relaxed as he took in the first sentence. ‘ _In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit…_ ’


	9. Month 1 - Always a Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I didn't think this chapter was as short as it was for some reason. Things to look out for in this chapter: mentions of slavery, talks about Bandomeer, and more dialogue than I realized!
> 
> Also, I do have all of this written out, plus one more completed installation for this series, and I'm currently working on this universe's version of AOTC, and let me tell you. It. Is. Taking. Forever. Not that I have no ideas at all, no no no. No, my ISSUE is that the chapters are turning into 5K MONSTROSITIES! WHY??? Seriously, I've written to right when the bounty hunter who tried to kill Padme is killed by Jango, and I already have almost 15k words. Ugh. Well, at least you know that there's a lot more! :))))
> 
> Have fun with the chapter! I may be gracious and upload again tomorrow because the chapter is kinda short, but we'll see. The whole reason I wrote everything out ahead of time was because of Uni, and I don't want to run out of chapters before winter break.

As the first month dragged on, Obi-wan took time out of his day to read a bit of his favorite holonovels and metaphorically ‘smell the Nabooian roses.’ Anakin’s light never seemed to dim any, but he did grow more thoughtful and tethered, though there was a part of himself that Obi-wan noticed was not following Qui-gon’s mantra of ‘here and now.’ Not that Obi-wan had done much in teaching Anakin Qui-gon’s mantra. Or much teaching at all, really. Most of the first month was catching Anakin up on everything that a padawan his age would have learned had they grown up in the temple. Luckily, Obi-wan didn’t need to do that alone.

After the first week, Phandrire was helping teach Anakin the very things he would have learned as an initiate that Obi-wan had quite frankly forgotten about (having not been an initiate in over a decade, by that point), Bant had offered to teach Anakin how to swim, Reeft and Garen teamed up to make sure that Anakin had a good working base of astronavigation and willing chaperones for the flight simulators, and Quinlan and Aayla had appointed themselves as the ‘improvisation teachers.’ What that meant, Obi-wan could guess, but preferred not to for the sake of plausible deniability.

Unlike how well Anakin’s therapy was apparently going, Obi-wan didn’t think that his was actually going anywhere or doing anything. All of the events that Healer Ku asked about, Obi-wan didn’t feel comfortable discussing – at least with her – for the moment, and though they had explored his feelings of non-being further, those explorations didn’t feel like they were going anywhere either.

In stark contrast, the weekly dinners at Master Ro’s quarters had started to become a high point in Obi-wan’s week. After Master Tahl’s death during Obi-wan’s padawanship, he hadn’t thought that he’d find another motherly-figure, but lo and behold, a motherly figure was exactly what Master Ro was becoming. While he wasn’t quite as close with the Neti as he had been with Master Tahl, Obi-wan somehow felt closer to Master Ro in a way that he wasn’t with Tahl. Perhaps it was in how Master Ro would look at him in sympathetic understanding, or perhaps it was in how she would treat everyone as she treated Master Koth: that is to say, with gentle teasing and warmth. Whatever it was, Master Ro seemed to understand how Obi-wan was feeling now that his Master was dead.

Anakin also immensely enjoyed these dinner days, though he would lament that Aayla couldn’t join in the fun yet: he’d introduced her and Zabu, and the three of them had become unholy terrors to their respective teachers, much to Quinlan’s enjoyment. Which was, in fact, the reason that Aayla and Quinlan couldn’t join in the dinners yet. Anakin had even warmed up to Master Windu when he noticed that the man’s harsh and judging exterior belayed the marshmallow soft pushover that lay underneath. In fact, Anakin enjoyed these evenings so much that it was in the aftermath as he and Obi-wan were walking back to their quarters through a deserted hallway that Anakin began talking with Obi-wan.

“Is there a word I can use other than ‘master?’” Anakin asked, and then proceeded to word vomit while Obi-wan tried to keep up. It was getting late, and dinner was sitting heavily in his stomach, weighing his mind and eyelids down. “I know you said that I could just call you ‘Obi-wan’ and other people ‘Mister’ or ‘Miss’ or whatever, but I was talking with Healer Jalanam about it, see, and I wanna show you respect cause you’re my teacher but also you’re raising me now and mom always said you gotta show people who are raising and teaching you respect so I wanna do that but I don’t wanna say ‘Master’ cause…what was the way Healer Jalanam said it?...it has negative connotations for me an’ I don’t wanna have that be how I think about _you_ cause you’re great an’ all, so is there something else I can call you which also shows respect, or if not can we make one up?” Obi-wan blinked for a moment as they walked down the hallway, hand in hand, processing all that had been said. Hmmm…

“When I was thirteen,” Obi-wan began, talking slowly and feeling out the words before they left his mouth, “before I became a padawan, I was sent to the Agri-corps because no one wished to teach me.” Anakin made a noise of disbelief.

“Who wouldn’t wanna?”

“Qui-gon, for one,” Obi-wan said, dry as the desert. While Anakin gaped, the two reached their quarters and Obi-wan plugged in their code to enter. “I was sent to Bandomeer, and while there I came across a plot led by a dark-sider. I was then captured and sent to a deep-sea mining rig with a bomb collar around my neck.” Anakin gasped and held Obi-wan’s hand tighter. Obi-wan didn’t comment on how the boy was cutting off the circulation to his fingers. “Some other things happened, but I ended up being there for about a month all told. I didn’t have to call anyone ‘Master’ there, but suffice it to say that wasn’t the last time I had a collar around my neck.” Anakin stared up into Obi-wan’s eyes, brilliant sky-blue meeting sharp grey-blue.

“You were a slave?” Anakin asked. He’d released Obi-wan’s hand but was now hugging the older man’s arm like it was a comfort stuffy. Obi-wan let it happen despite the distant voice of Qui-gon in his head warning about attachment. Obi-wan tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully.

“On and off throughout my padawanship,” Obi-wan admitted, “not that often, fortunately, but I think I’ve spent a total of a year as a slave. Most of those required me to call someone ‘Master.’” He stared into Anakin’s eyes. “Qui-gon and I came up with an alternate for that word after the first time, when I threw up after trying to call him ‘Master Qui-gon.’ Would you like to try that one?”

“What is it?”

“Professor or Prof,” Obi-wan said, pronouncing Prof as ‘prawv.’ “Since he was teaching me how to be a Jedi knight, saying ‘Teacher Qui-gon’ felt odd, ‘Guardian’ didn’t quite fit our relationship at the time, and so we decided that a good alternate was Professor.”

“Oh.” Anakin broke his gaze from Obi-wan’s to search mindlessly around the room. After almost a month together, Obi-wan recognized the action as Anakin’s thinking face. The boy grinned brightly up at Obi-wan after a moment. “I like it! I still wanna call you Obi-wan otherwise, though.” Obi-wan nodded, a smile involuntarily quirking the side of his own mouth.

“I have no issue with that, Ani.”

“Do I hafta call you ‘Master’ when we go on missions?” Ah, there was the question that Obi-wan had been somewhat dreading. As was usual when talking with Anakin, Obi-wan thoroughly thought about what he was going to say before he even let the words touch his tongue.

“That’s something we’ll have to think about in a few months,” Obi-wan said. The admission made him wince. “For now, let’s put that discussion on the table. I think we’ve had too many life-changing discussions today as it is.” Anakin grinned and laughed.

“Okay! G’night, Prof!” Obi-wan blinked back tears.

“Good night, Ani.” As the boy tripped off to his room, Obi-wan sat on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Talking about Bandomeer and his various experiences wearing a Force-damned slave collar hadn’t been on the list of things that he’d thought he’d be talking with his padawan about, but those old, scarred over topics weren’t the worst ones he would have thought to start with. In fact, he’d just talked more about his past with Anakin than he had with Healer Ku. Maybe next time he would talk about it with her.


	10. Month 2 - One Step Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my guilt of giving you all a 1k chapter yesterday, I counted the chapters that I've completed and compared them to the number of weeks left in the semester and decided that I could get away with posting again today. How benevolent of me. 
> 
> THERE IS ANOTHER LANGUAGE HERE! IT IS SCOTTISH GAELIC! No, I do NOT speak it, read it, or write it. I *gasp* google translated! If there is anyone reading who knows Scottish Gaelic, you have my infinite apologies and please help! Translations (or at least, what Google says) are in the end-notes in the order of appearance. 
> 
> ADDITIONALLY: There is an explanation of how I as an aromantic see aromanticism. This is by no means how eVeRyOnE sees it in the community, but I liked the concept when I first thought of it a few years ago, and the explanation has never failed me since. I also go into the kind of love that Jedi like, and the examples come from Phantom of the Opera - the movie not the book. He's comical in the book, he's creepy in the movie and musical. Anyway, that's all I wanted to say! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me them in the comments!
> 
> Have fun!! -Rozu_chan

T’la stared at Eeth in disbelief. The Chancellor went to the Council about _what_?

“They’re both on probation.” She said, voice snapping with irritation. Eeth shrugged.

“It’s the Chancellor.”

“I don’t care. They need to stay here and not think about the outside galaxy for 6 months. It’s a matter of mental health.” Not to mention that T’la just didn’t trust politicians. Especially this one, if Obi-wan had already informed the man about their inability to meet due to being Temple-bound.

“Technically speaking,” Eeth said, slowly, “he only asked to see Anakin.” T’la rustled her branches. Eeth had that look on his face that T’la recognized from when he was a padawan. It was the one that said: ‘this doesn’t feel right, and I want you to know that I know.’ Fair enough.

“That’s worse,” T’la said, deflating. “I wouldn’t trust him with a singular Knight, let alone a child who’s been traumatized for most of his life.” Eeth had that look on his face that said he agreed but was on the council so couldn’t voice his agreement. T’la respected the Council in most things, but in times like this, they sometimes needed a reminder that they weren’t actually beholden to the Senate and Chancellor. T’la picked up her pad and requested a meeting with the council, strongly hinting in the comments section that the sooner she was granted the meeting, the better. Eeth’s pad pinged a notification, and he sighed.

“When you do end up berating the Council, please know that we were all against this anyway.”

“Even Even Piell?” As much as T’la enjoyed Even’s company, their Jedi politics didn’t often line up.

“…no. Fair enough.”

“I won’t be berating the Council anyway,” T’la said. At Eeth’s disbelieving and longsuffering look, she snorted. Well, as much as a Neti _could_ snort, anyway. It was more of a strange sounding, backwards groaning. “I’ll just be gently reminding.”

“Could have fooled me.” Eeth said under his breath. T’la heard it anyway but elected to ignore it. She had a lecture to write and a presentation to prepare.

&&&

Obi-wan sat his favorite section of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was the section that was modeled after his home-world, Stewjon. The ground was covered in heather, moss that was currently sporting tiny white flowers that were dotting the ground like small stars, oval sedge grass that grew in clumps where the moss and heather didn’t grow, low sweeping willows, tightly packed Beech that sectioned the Stewjon portion off from the other portions of the Room, and in the center of the room, one giant Oak tree, old and wrinkly with its branches curving first up and then down, the lowest branches just touching the ground to provide a nice, cavern-like hideaway for people who enjoyed a solitary meditation. The artificial light in the Room was, on this day, sunny and bright, and as Obi-wan sat in the cozy cavern of the oak, he gazed at the dappling affect caused by the light breaking through the spaces between the leaves.

As he watched one patch of green-tinted light, Obi-wan felt a tug on the developing bond between himself and Anakin. Obi-wan poked the bond back. Today, he and Anakin were going to try and strengthen their bond to a proper training bond. The first part of the exercise – he had informed Anakin that morning – was the teacher going off and the student having to use the existing bond to try and find the teacher. This was partially to test the strength of the bond – if the student couldn’t, then the exercise was put off until the bond was stronger and there was more trust – and partially to teach the student to follow the movements of the Force as well as how to direct where the movement was. Much like being able to make a sound on an instrument and then fiddling with how loud and in tune that sound is. So far, Anakin seemed to be doing well, as Obi-wan was able to sense that he was closer than he had been not five minutes prior.

“Hi, Obi-wan!” Anakin said, cheerily, and with no small amount of satisfaction that he’d completed that portion of the exercise. Obi-wan smiled back. Since their talk about alternate titles, and Obi-wan’s admission to having been a slave in the past, Anakin had blossomed. He still had something that was holding him back, but Obi-wan knew that something was Anakin’s mother still being a slave, and he’d already created a plan to free her, so he didn’t see that attachment being much of an issue in the future.

“Hello, Ani.” _Attachment_ , Qui-gon’s voice whispered. _Shut up_ , Obi-wan thought back. The bond that he’d had with Qui-gon still felt like an open wound, but he’d finally talked about the experience with Healer Ku, and then again with T’la during one of the dinners. Acceptance was the first step, and Obi-wan was certainly trying. _Do or do not_ , Yoda’s voice chastised him. _Trying is a step in doing_ , Obi-wan replied.

“So,” Anakin plopped gracelessly down onto the patch of heather and crossed his legs, mimicking Obi-wan’s meditation pose, “what’s next? I found you, and I only had’ta poke you a couple times.” Obi-wan’s smile slipped into a good-natured smirk, the kind that Anakin had begun to recognize as mischievous.

“Well, now we talk.” Obi-wan said. Anakin groaned.

“We’ve been doing that though! A lot, too!” Obi-wan chuckled at Anakin’s lively response. Obi-wan had been incredulous when Quinlan had talked to Obi-wan about how to form a proper training bond, not ‘that half-bond that you and Jinn shared.’ Obi-wan and Qui-gon hadn’t exactly had a conversation like Anakin and Obi-wan were about to have. Or a conversation like apparently every other teacher-student pairing in the temple had. He and Qui-gon had formed a stronger starting bond and then had left it at that. The bond had been strong enough that it had simulated a proper training bond, but Obi-wan was just now realizing how strong the bond could have been had they formed a proper training bond. So many missed opportunities. Obi-wan wasn’t about to let that happen with Anakin.

“This is important for forming a proper training bond.” Obi-wan said, slipping into his ‘teacher-voice.’ “We talk about what we both want to get out of this time we have together, our expectations, future goals, and whether we actually want to form this bond or not. We also talk about what we want our relationship as a teacher-student unit to be like. More like a teacher-student dynamic, more like a parent-child dynamic, or more like a sibling-dynamic. After we’ve discussed all of that, we go on to the next phase.”

“That’s a lot of talking.” Anakin said. He was leaning back on his hands. Obi-wan had the sudden realization that the boy looked nothing like the one who’d left Tatooine, or even the one who’d left Naboo. Anakin was wearing the padawan robes, but in sandy and cream colors rather than the browns that Obi-wan had expected, and somehow that combined with his increasing calm as a result of therapy and making friends other than Aayla and Zabu had matured the boy. Obi-wan felt a surge of pride over Anakin, who felt the emotion from his teacher and flushed happily.

“Well,” Obi-wan said, “the talking is needed. This is the point when the both of us decide whether this partnership is right or not.” When Anakin looked confused, Obi-wan searched for the words to elaborate. “While we are currently a partnership, it isn’t officially official until we form the full training bond.” Obi-wan explained, “if one of us decides that the other isn’t what they’re looking for in a teacher-student partnership, the bond doesn’t go further, and they’re free to look for another teacher or student.” He raised an eyebrow at Anakin and the boy nodded in understanding. Obi-wan continued. “Normally, since the teacher is the one who chooses the student, it’s the student at this point who says whether they want the teacher as a teacher or not.”

“I kinda thought that once you become a padawan, you stay with that teacher?” Anakin asked. Obi-wan scratched his chin, where last month’s stubble was slowly growing into a beard. The stubble was very itchy.

“Well, that depends.” Obi-wan said. This was, frankly, not new news to Obi-wan, but he’d never felt like he had any other option _but_ Qui-gon. “Deciding the partnership isn’t going to work is rare, for either party. It typically happens when one party doesn’t feel like they’re meshing properly as a team, or they end up being more at odds than actually learning.” Anakin nodded, visibly absorbing the information.

“So,” Anakin said after a moment, “what was that first thing again?” Obi-wan smiled, and the discussion began. This was more of an interview for the Master on the part of the Padawan, one that Obi-wan hoped he would pass. No longer mainly because of his promise to Qui-gon, but because he genuinely liked Anakin and wanted to continue to teach the child of two suns.

“What is this place, anyway?” Anakin asked. They had just finished discussing what they wanted to get out of their partnership, and while they’d had some different ideas, both sides had agreed that more variety in the training was likely for the better. Anakin had – at some point – flipped onto his back so he could stare up into the beautiful dappled canopy of the oak. Obi-wan had simply leaned back against the trunk to feel the solidness, the sheer presence and there-ness of the old tree.

“You did learn how different sections of the Room of a Thousand Fountains represent a different world in the galaxy, yes?” Anakin nodded. “This portion is modeled after my home-world, Stewjon.” Anakin sat up and looked around.

“There’s a lot of green,” the boy noted. Obi-wan nodded. “What’s it like?”

“I don’t know about the people,” Obi-wan said. Anakin gaped at his teacher, who gave in to a chuckle. “I’m fluent in the language and talked to one or two other Stewjoni who live on Coruscant, but I’ve never been there personally.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never felt the need,” Obi-wan shrugged, “I was given to the temple when I was two standard. The Jedi became my family and the Temple my home.”

“What’s the Stewjon language sound like?” Anakin asked. Obi-wan thought for a moment.

“Tha mi a ‘smaoineachadh gun dèan sinn sgioba math.” Obi-wan said.

“That’s pretty.” Anakin said. “Wassat mean?”

“It means, ‘I think we make a good team.’” Anakin beamed.

“I think so too!” he said. They smiled goofily at one another before moving on with their discussion. Finally, they reached the point of conversation where they’d decided that continuing with themselves as a unit was what they both wanted and had one more discussion to tackle. What did they want their dynamic to be like?

“Not teacher-student.” Anakin said firmly. _Attachment_ , Qui-gon screamed. Obi-wan ignored the voice.

“Not teacher-student,” he said. That left two options, either of which Obi-wan would be fine with. He and Anakin sat in silence, staring up at the canopy. It was close to mid-meal.

“What if,” Anakin said, slowly, “what if I can’t choose between the two?”

“How so?”

“Well,” Anakin said, “you’re too young to be my dad, right?” Obi-wan nodded. “But you’re not just my sibling either, you know?” Obi-wan nodded again. “Can we…I dunno…mix the two?” Obi-wan thought about that for a moment.

“That would take some balance,” Obi-wan said. “Nominally, the partnerships that have a more sibling-dynamic are for teams like Quinlan and Aayla, who have a Grandmaster to fall back on as a parental figure for the lineage.”

“Where does the balance come in then, for us?” Obi-wan looked at Anakin and decided to wait until Anakin came up with an answer. Sensing that was Obi-wan’s intention, Anakin fell silent in thought. “I don’t have a dad,” Anakin said finally, “Maybe if Mister Qui-gon was around, he’d be like one, but also maybe not. I dunno, he’s kinda dead.” Obi-wan bit his lips to hold back an amused snort at how Anakin had phrased that. “But you know, I kinda like you more as a parental figure. Not,” Anakin hastened to say, “not, you know, like mom, cause she’s my mom.” Obi-wan nodded. “But there’s kinda a distance between a parent and a kid, and I wanna have a dynamic more like Vos and Aayla, but then also you’re kinda a parent figure. Maybe T’la can be our balance?”

“Maybe she can,” Obi-wan said, “we would have to ask her, though.” Anakin nodded.

“Does it sound like a good idea? Can we do that?” Anakin asked. At Obi-wan’s nod, he threw his hands up in the air in celebration. “Yippee!” He rolled onto his knees. “Can we go onto the next phase now?” Obi-wan acquiesced.

“To form a bond, now that we’ve talked about everything that we need to, we must start in a meditation posture” Obi-wan said, sitting back up and taking his favored sitting pose. Anakin hurried to copy him and Obi-wan smiled gently as he continued. “We must sink into meditation, find our fledgling link in our minds, and then reach across the strands at the same time and…shake hands.”

“Shake hands?”

“Well, that’s just how I envision it. Essentially we’re connecting the link more securely so that it becomes a proper bond.” Anakin still looked a bit confused, probably because of the different metaphors. Obi-wan gathered his thoughts. “Perhaps…did your mother spin bantha wool into yarn?” At Anakin’s eager nod, Obi-wan felt relieved. “Alright, so our link at the moment is like a single strand of bantha wool. Is that very strong?” Anakin shook his head, but Obi-wan gestured for an answer.

“No,” Anakin said, “if it’s one strand, it’ll come apart too easy, so that’s why mom hasta spin a lotta strands together so that they’re strong. She said that as slaves we all hadda be like the yarn. Apart we’re weak and break easy, but when we stick together we’re almost unbreakable!”

“Exactly! Your mother is a wise woman.”

“Yeah! She’s the best!”

“Our link is that single strand, so…”

“We gotta spin it stronger!”

“Exactly. But first, we have to meditate and find each other through that strand.”

“Okay!” And so they did. Frankly, Obi-wan thought that their forging a bond was far too easy. Sinking into his meditation, Obi-wan found that strand linking him to Anakin quickly and reached across to meet Anakin who was already waiting for him halfway. Together, they formed a spindle made of the force and worked together to spin the two threads that linked them together into a thick rope that connected them far more securely. It shone brightly in the force, and when the two surfaced from their meditation, they never felt more at home.

T’la, when she was asked by Obi-wan and Anakin to be their balance, quickly agreed. She’d grown fond of the two and was glad that they trusted her enough to let her into their little bond. She – as well as the rest of the Temple – had noticed immediately when Obi-wan and Anakin had formed their training bond. And she – as well as the rest of the Temple – had been surprised when it had happened. Yes, their bond before had been a tad weaker than normal training bonds, but it was still strong enough to _be_ a training bond, and so no one had thought that perhaps it hadn’t been. Now, their bond was bright enough that T’la was convinced it could be seen from the next galaxy over. Okay, she was overexaggerating a bit, but it _was_ strong.

The only not-so-great part about being their balance was that Obi-wan sometimes redirected Anakin to T’la (or Phandrire, if T’la was working. Somehow, the young Knight had figured out her work schedule) whenever Anakin had asked a question that was even remotely embarrassing. As was the case near the end of the pair’s second month Temple-bound. T’la had just finished her scheduled meeting with the Council, and had thoroughly reminded them that Anakin was a minor, and why did the Chancellor want to meet with a minor alone anyway? No, she wasn’t _suggesting_ anything, but wasn’t that a bit odd? Shouldn’t said minor be at least escorted by one – if not two – adults when meeting with someone not their Master? Additionally, what happened to the two being Temple-bound? Did the Council want to retract their orders and potentially set a precedent for Knights who wanted to go back out into the field before they medically should? At this last point, T’la had brought in Master Che, who cowed the rest of the Council who hadn’t already been on T’la’s side of the argument, and the matter had been settled.

“T’la?” Anakin asked, tugging on the sleeve of her robe. She was too tall otherwise to see where he was, and so needed the physical reminder sometimes. T’la looked down at Anakin and the slash in her wooden face that was her mouth creaked upwards in a smile.

“Yes, Ani?”

“What’s attachment and why aren’t we allowed to have it?” Damn you, Kenobi.

“Have you asked Obi-wan?”

“Yeah, he said you might explain it better cause he didn’t wanna mess up the explanation. I don’t get why though, he’s super wizard about explaining things so I get them.”

“Hmm…” Double damn you, Kenobi! “Would you like some spiced cocoa and fruit while we discuss this?” Anakin nodded eagerly and they made their way back to T’la’s rooms, Anakin gushing the entire way there about how ‘wizard’ Obi-wan was, how ‘wizard’ the classes he was taking were, and how ‘wizard’ Healer Jalanam was. T’la nodded along, absorbing the information and storing it in the ‘family’ section of her mental library. As T’la prepared the spiced cocoa in the kitchen, she set Anakin to work peeling some of the sour-fruits that she always had lying around in case of visitors.

“So,” Anakin said as he blew air on his cocoa to cool it, “what’s attachment?”

“Has Obi-wan showed you ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ yet?”

“Eeh, no. Wassat?”

“A musical. Never mind that for now, but it’s a good example of obsessive love versus romantic love versus selfless love versus familial and friendship love.”

“There’s different kinds of love?”

“Certainly! Do you feel for Obi-wan like you feel for Zabu or Aayla?”

“No! Professor Obi-wan’s like my dad or brother. Zabu and Aayla are my friends.”

“But you still love all of them, right?”

“Yeah!”

“And you love your mother?”

“Yeah!”

“But all of that love is different to you.”

“Yeah. Why’s that?”

“Hmm…think of it this way. Here are some baskets of fruit.” T’la took the baskets on the table – thankfully there were 5 baskets – and spread them out in a line, and then took the fruit from them. “From your right to left, we have obsessive love, romantic love, selfless love, familial love, and friendship love.” She waited until Anakin nodded in understanding to move on. “Everyone has a different distribution of fruits in these baskets. There may be people, like me, who have all of their fruits in the selfless, familial, and friendship baskets but none in obsessive or romantic.” T’la piled all the fruits into those baskets.

“You don’t feel romantic love?” Anakin asked. T’la nodded.

“Yes, it’s not too common, though.” Anakin nodded and T’la emptied the baskets again. “There are some people who have an equal amount of fruits in each basket, and also some who have none in every basket.”

“That last one’s like how one of my teachers said we’re supposed to feel.”

“Ah, they’re wrong. Ignore them for the rest of eternity.” Anakin giggled. “Jedi aren’t unfeeling flesh-droids,” T’la said, “we feel things and make mistakes just like everybody else, but our mistakes tend to be more dangerous because of the powers we can wield. Do you understand?” Anakin nodded. T’la shuffled her fruits and turned back to the baskets.

“Ideally, the Jedi want this kind of distribution.” T’la distributed all the fruits she had into the ‘selfless’ basket. Anakin’s nose wrinkled. “Ideally. We know that’s not very realistic.”

“The teacher said we hadda a-shoe attachment though?”

“Eschew, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“What they’re worried about is the ideal Sith distribution.” T’la took the selfless basket and upended it into the obsessive basket. “Attachment tends to lead to obsessive love. When we have as much power at our disposal as we do, attachment can be a dangerous thing not just for us, but for the people around us who may not be able to protect themselves from that power. This is when Phantom of the Opera really comes in handy for explaining the difference between love and attachment.”

“We can still love, then?”

“Oh yes, definitely.” T’la paused. “If you’re not seeing examples of romantic love, it’s because Jedi don’t tend to be overt in their affections. Unless your name is Quinlan Vos or Kit Fisto.” Anakin giggled again and slurped at his cocoa, which was almost gone. “When Jedi love, we have to be able to let go as well. Obsession has no place in that ability. Attachment is thinking that _your_ feelings for a person overrule even _that_ person’s wishes. Does this makes sense?” Anakin waved his hand in a so-so sign.

“Let’s see…” T’la once again cursed Obi-wan in her head. She hadn’t had to have the ‘attachment’ discussion with anyone since Eeth was a tiny tot! “I’m going to give up and use Phantom of the Opera as my example.” T’la whipped out her pad and swiped through it until she pulled up her song list. “Here, this particular song shows obsessive love. Listen not to _how_ he sings, but _what_ he sings.”

“Oh, did he just say ‘only then can you belong to me?’”

“Yes! Phantom loves Christine, but throughout the musical treats her more like a possession rather than another sentient being.”

“Like a slave?”

“Well, yes.” T’la swiped to another song. “This one is mostly sung between Raoul and Christine, but Phantom comes in near the end because he’s been spying on them.”

“That’s rude!”

“Phantom isn’t quite the gentleman he likes to think he is, no.”

“Phantom gave Christine his music?”

“He was tutoring her in singing so she could get better.”

“He’s still talking about her like she’s a possession.”

“Yes, Phantom’s love for Christine is obsessive. This is the kind of love that is attachment. Throughout their arc, Phantom is unable to let Christine go when she finds the person that she loves, and ends up murdering people and trying to make Christine choose him over Raoul by threatening Raoul’s life.”

“…why do you like this?” the look on Anakin’s face – the sheer disgust – made T’la laugh creakily.

“The music score is amazing.” She said. The disgust didn’t leave Anakin’s face. “Additionally, as I’ve said, this is a great example of several different kinds of love, which you can learn almost solely through the music.”

“So Christine and Raoul are romantic love.”

“Yes.”

“Is Christine selfless love?”

“Yes! I’m glad you caught onto that! She also is familial love through her serenade to her father’s grave.”

“Okay. Lemme get this right. Love is okay as long as you can let it go and not let it become obsessive love, which is attachment, which is treating someone like an object, or like a slave.”

“Essentially. Over the years, you’ll learn and relearn which baskets your fruits are in, and will have to learn and relearn what attachment is.” T’la said. “It’s a never-ending battle, but nothing that’s worth anything is easy.” Anakin had finished off the rest of his cocoa while they’d been listening to the music, and so grinned over an empty cup.

“I think I understand it all a bit more though. Thanks, T’la!” T’la smiled back.

“If you want, you can invite Obi-wan over for dinner,” she offered, “my rooms are always open, not just on family dinner nights.” Also, she wanted to thoroughly embarrass Obi-wan. It wasn’t revenge! That wouldn’t be very Jedi of her. Anakin cheered and commed Obi-wan while T’la plotted her not-revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding, there aren't translations here because I translated to Anakin!! In the future though, the translations will be down here!


	11. Month 3 - This isn't Gambling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy!!! Wow, midterms are awful! Okay, something that I was inspired by for the Thousand Fountains thing is Desert Storm. It's really well written, and I suggest you all give it a read!  
> Additionally, there was one point where I had to look up if they had ducks in star wars...they DOOOOOO! They're from Naboo! 
> 
> Next chapter will have the trigger warning, but small warning for this in that derealization is talked about. 
> 
> Have a great read! - Rozu_chan
> 
> Edit: Apparently, one of my sentences didn't render itself :/

Obi-wan stared at his face in the mirror. With the beard and the longish hair, he couldn’t really recognize himself. He shrugged and slipped a comb through both before styling his hair. 

“ _What are we doing today?_ ” Anakin asked through their bond. Today was their day off. Healer Ku had finally decided that Obi-wan _definitely_ had PTSD from events in his past (that Obi-wan still hadn’t talked about, but Healer Ku had known the facts of due to the nature of reports being…well… _reports_ ) as well as depression which manifested in the form of mild derealization. Healer Ku had apparently been surprised that the derealization was only mild. For the past month, the two had been working on grounding techniques, and Obi-wan had enlisted Anakin’s help to tether him when Anakin sensed Obi-wan started to derealize. To their surprise, their bond had been developing even more, entangling them to a degree that made Obi-wan unsure that they’d be able to separate when Anakin was ready to take his trials, if he indeed ended up wanting to be a knight. He and Anakin could now talk through their bond from long distances as well as have a general sense of how the other was feeling even when they were on opposite ends of the Temple from each other.

_“We're going to the Room of a Thousand Fountains,”_ Obi-wan replied, taking the opportunity to trim his beard back. “ _Think of it like a Force-sensing exercise_.” A squawk of indignation sounded through the apartment, and Obi-wan stopped trimming his beard to heartily laugh.

“ _Seriously, Prof? It’s our day off!_ ” Anakin was clattering around the kitchen from the sounds of it. _Well, that’s dangerous_ , Obi-wan thought. “ _No it isn’t!_ ” Oops, he’d sent that through the bond.

“ _Well, it’s going to be fun learning, not ‘un-fun learning,’ as you so eloquently stated last evening_.” Obi-wan said. Anakin grumbled through their bond and Obi-wan exited the refresher.

“Are those bugs, Anakin?” Obi-wan asked, staring suspiciously at the plates. The nine-year-old huffed and gestured for Obi-wan to sit.

“It’s Tatooinian morning meal.” Anakin said. “I had to get the ingredients from the kitchens.” Obi-wan sensed that this was something important and so held his sigh back and sat. “Also, what did you mean ‘fun learning?’”

“Zabu and Aayla are going to be there. So are Phandrire, Galvi, and Shasa. I wouldn’t be surprised if Quinlan also wormed his way in and dragged Bant along. The only ones that I _know_ won’t be there are Garen and Reeft.” Because they were both off on extended missions, the lucky ducks.

“That’s a lot.” Anakin stared at Obi-wan. “Are you sure this was your idea?” Obi-wan sputtered indignantly at that. Anakin grinned.

“How do you eat this?” Obi-wan asked. He knew that Anakin knew that Obi-wan was changing the subject, but luckily Anakin let it slide. After showing Obi-wan the best way to eat Tatooinian morning meal, the two tucked in. Hmm…crunchy.

“So, what _are_ we going to be doing in the gardens?” Anakin asked as they walked down the halls. Obi-wan finally realized what was bothering him about Anakin that morning.

“Why are you speaking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like me?” And Anakin _was_ speaking like Obi-wan, accent and all. The whole experience was rather…disconcerting.

“Oh! I’m practicing.” Anakin said, nodding sagely. Obi-wan wrestled with that thought for a moment.

“Why?”

“Cause- Ack! _Be_ cause everyone here talks – _speaks_ – like they’re really intelligent, and I know I don’t sound like that.” Obi-wan stopped dead in the hallway and stared at his padawan.

“Anakin,” he said, kneeling to look his padawan in the eyes, “you’re far more intelligent than I think you know. There aren’t many nine-year-olds who can build a working pod-racer from _nothing_ and then race that pod-racer in the most dangerous pod-race in the _galaxy_.” Anakin shrugged.

“But that’s not an intelligent thing, that’s an _intuition_ thing. One of my teachers said there was a difference.” Obi-wan’s heart trembled with something he dimly recognized from his youth as fury. Even when that Sith had struck Qui-gon down, Obi-wan had felt anger momentarily, but fury? Not since he was an initiate and junior padawan. Not since _Bruck_. Bruck had rather effectively crushed Obi-wan’s capacity for fury with his death.

“Which teacher?” Obi-wan reigned in his emotions, keeping them close for the moment until he could safely acknowledge and release them to the Force without getting Anakin concerned. Anakin shrugged, and kept his gaze on Obi-wan’s nose.

“The same teacher who I told you said that Jedi should a-shoe all kinds of love because they could lead to attachment, which leads to the dark side.” Obi-wan was glad that T’la had straightened that out. Obi-wan hadn’t felt qualified to talk about attachment at all, in that context. Sith hells, _he_ still hadn’t figured the attachment thing out. Or the love thing. Force, Obi-wan was a mess. What was he doing teaching a padawan again? Obi-wan shook off his thoughts. 

“Ani, what that teacher said was wrong.” He slowly reached for Anakin’s shoulders, telegraphing his movements. One of the signs that Anakin had told Obi-wan to look out for when Anakin would be mentally back as a slave was lack of eye contact. In those cases, physical contact likely would not be welcomed. Luckily, this time it was. Obi-wan gently grasped Anakin’s shoulders and lightly squeezed. “There are so many different kinds of intelligence.” Obi-wan said. It was something he himself hadn’t learned until well into his teen-years from Master Tholme, during one of the times that Qui-gon had left him with Quinlan and Tholme in the few months after Master Tahl had died.

“Yours,” Obi-wan said, “may not be in the spoken word or in politics or even _poetry_ ,” Anakin’s face flickered with a grin, the teacher in question was his poetry teacher, “but it _is_ in mechanics, and astronavigation, and numbers. Intuition isn’t intelligence? Bah!” Obi-wan, in purposeful dramatics that he knew would lift Anakin’s spirits, waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Intuition is possibly the greatest intelligence of all. After all, intuition is just a branch of wisdom, and what use is all the intelligence in the galaxy if you don’t have the wisdom to know _how_ to use it?” Obi-wan grumbled for a bit longer about how idiotic the teacher was being before he was suddenly slamming onto his rear end from the crushing force of Anakin’s hug.

“You’re the best dad,” Anakin said in a shaky voice. _Oh_ , Obi-wan thought, and flushed. He hugged Anakin back.

As the pair entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains, they found the whole Therapy Family plus Aayla, Quinlan, Bant, and one stranger – even to Obi-wan – who was tall with cropped blond hair. The humanoid’s eyes were blue and held a kind of sadness that Obi-wan was startled to realize that he recognized from the mirror and from after T’la. The sadness of having lost a Master. Obi-wan could sympathize.

“ _You okay_?” Anakin sent through the bond. Obi-wan sent a positive acknowledgement back. “So what’re we doing here?” Obi-wan crooked a smile at Anakin.

“Yes, Obi-wan, what _are_ we doing here?” T’la had crossed her arms and narrowed her green eyes. In the dimmed, natural lighting, they glowed slightly.

“I…” a thoughtful pause from Galvi, “would also like to know.”

“Yeah, Kenobi!”

“I didn’t invite _you_ , Vos.”

“You invited Aayla.”

“She’s tolerable.”

“Ouch.”

“Anakin, open your mind to the Force and let it guide you through the gardens. Once you find a place that feels right, I’ll explain further.”

“How’d I know if it feels right?”

“Trust me, you’ll know.” Anakin scrunched his face in confusion at Obi-wan but opened his mind to the force. Instantly, that bright supernova that Anakin had just learned how to make a tad quieter – much to the relief of those more sensitive to the Living Force – revealed itself in full. Shasa grimaced slightly and Obi-wan shrugged in apology as the Nabooian Knight raised his shields with an indignant look on his face. Quinlan leaned on Obi-wan.

“So,” the Kiffar muttered into Obi-wan’s ear, “who’re these?”

“The Therapy Family I told you about, remember?”

“Wow, I could _hear_ the capital letters in that sentence.” Quinlan grumbled.

“ _I_ remember,” Bant said from the other side of Quinlan. The group followed Anakin, Aayla, and Zabu sedately as the three padawans tripped and skipped through the gardens, counting the pools and fountains as they went.

“Aww, you _talked_ about us?” Phandrire said with a coo. Galvi chuckled mechanically.

“I hope…it wasn’t sexual.”

“He better _not_ have.” Mace growled. He was avoiding looking at Anakin directly, and Obi-wan realized that he was probably trying to not see the shatterpoints surrounding his apprentice.

“It wasn’t sexual,” Obi-wan said, assuring Galvi, who then paused and apologized for once again not implementing her filter. Obi-wan waved her off. Galvi lost interest after that – she always lost interest easily – and skipped ahead to mess up the padawan’s count.

“You said _nothing_ about the individuals. Or what they looked like.” Quinlan said, eyeing Shasa. Obi-wan startled, as did Phandrire. Shasa hadn’t noticed, as he was mixed up in a separate conversation with T’la, Mace, Eeth, and the humanoid that Obi-wan hadn’t been introduced to yet.

“Are you _interested_ in our Shasa?” Phandrire asked delightedly. She locked her dark eyes with Quinlan’s. “Oh! You are!” Obi-wan felt confused.

“Uhm?”

“It’s the ‘crush’ thing, Obi.” Bant explained. “And maybe the ‘sexual attraction’ thing.”

“Ah,” Obi-wan said. “Those things that are completely fake.” Bant and Quinlan groaned, missing Obi-wan’s sly smirk. Phandrire didn’t, though, and chortled, covering her mouth with a deceivingly delicate hand. Obi-wan glanced over at Shasa. Personally, Obi-wan understood things like attractiveness. Of course he did, he had _eyes_. He just didn’t understand why attractiveness led to things like naked times or romance. The transition just didn’t compute in his brain.

Objectively, as a humanoid, Shasa was pretty. He had the Nabooian features common amongst every sex: delicate nose, soft, heart shaped face, gleaming brownish red hair, and a graceful gait. He didn’t wear colorless robes, which Obi-wan figured was likely what drew Quinlan’s eye in the first place. Shasa favored pastels, pinks and blues mainly, all colors of peace on Naboo, and which fit with the preferences of the Jedi.

“Is that his name?” Quinlan was asking as Obi-wan attempted to dislodge his friend’s arm. Phandrire tossed her long, full nerf tail in the air and grinned.

“Yes, Shasa Pulas. He likes Five Blossom Bread and Sparkle Drink, his favorite spot to relax is the Coruscanti Zoo, and what would impress him the most was if you _didn’t_ flirt with him.” She sounded like she was holding back a laugh.

“Yes,” Obi-wan added. “I know that flirting is your default setting, but Shasa prefers it when people just say what they’re thinking.”

“When I think, I flirt.”

“Like I said-“ Obi-wan was cut off by Anakin shouting.

“Oh! I know what you meant now, Prof!” Anakin had stopped at the Naboo section, though there was no plaque to tell him that he was in the Naboo section. _The will of the Force_ , Obi-wan thought, heart twisting slightly. The ground was all soft moss, and there was a gleaming, bright blue lake right in the center surrounded by Nabooian rose bushes. A natural walkway wound its way through the picturesque scene, leading to well-groomed trees that bore blue apples.

“Where would you like to sit, Anakin?” Obi-wan asked. His padawan conversed with his friends for a moment before pointing at an open patch of moss right by the shore of the lake.

Once everyone had settled, sitting with the groups they had walked in with, Obi-wan reached into one of his enormous robe pockets and pulled out an old Sabacc deck.

“No.” Mace said. He was glaring at the cards like they had personally offended him, and maybe they had. Obi-wan had never thought to ask Mace if _objects_ had shatterpoints, and this deck had been Master Yoda’s before it had been passed through his line to Obi-wan. 

“I have to teach Anakin at some point.” Obi-wan said. “If my experience has said anything, Sabacc is a language that is spoken throughout the galaxy, even more universally than Common.”

“Mom said Sabacc is a cheater’s game,” Anakin said, grinning. Obi-wan smirked back.

“Your mom is right, but Jedi don’t cheat.” Obi-wan said. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but Anakin would need to learn the basics before he learned the secrets of bending the rules.

“Well, I think this is a wonderful idea.” T’la said, folding her hands in her lap. “I’ve never played.”

“You’re over two-thousand years old.” The strange humanoid said. T’la smiled at them and said nothing.

“Should we all introduce ourselves, since we realized on the way over that Obi is terrible at introductions?” Bant suggested. Her hands were also folded in her lap, and Obi-wan couldn’t help but think that the posture distracted from how much of a troll his best friend really was. Bant seemed to know what he was thinking and gave him a look that screamed ‘say nothing, and I won’t eviscerate you.’ Obi-wan wisely said nothing.

“Yes…let’s.” Galvi agreed, waving her hand in the direction of Mace. “Starting with the most obviously…annoying…person here.” Mace bared his teeth in a smile, eyes promising revenge. Galvi tilted her nose to the sky and kept eye-contact. “Bring it, oh bald one.”

“You will deeply regret that.” Mace said. Galvi cackled, unrepentant. “I’m Mace Windu, for those of you who don’t know.”

“Who doesn’t?” Shasa said smoothly. “Everyone knows that Mace Window is part of the Jedi Council.”

“It’s Windu.”

“Sorry. Mace _Windy_.”

“Windu.”

“Windex?”

“ _Windu_.”

“Winfry?”

“ _Windu_!”

“Windu?”

“No! It’s…” Mace ground his teeth and gently placed his head into his hands. “It’s Windu.” His voice was muffled.

“Whatever you say, Master Window.” Shasa looked like the Tooka who’d gotten the bantha cream, and when Obi-wan looked over at Quinlan, he was perturbed to note that his friend was absolutely smitten. Obi-wan had never seen that on Quinlan before, and in his opinion it made Quinlan look like he was constipated. But then, Quinlan also looked constipated when he was proud of Aayla, so maybe that was his happy face.

“I’ll go…next.” Galvi said, smiling closed-mouthed. “My name…is Galvi Rirr.” She swept a short lock of pure white hair behind her ear and smirked at Mace, who still had his head in his hands. He may have been crying. Obi-wan wasn’t quite sure.

“I’m Zabu! Zabu Lomrix, and I go by xe/xim/xer, or ‘they’ in case you can’t pronounce the others, just fyi.”

“Fyi?” T’la asked. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with the newer lingo when you’d lived for so long, as exemplified by Master Yoda, who spoke as the language had been spoken when he was an initiate.

“Means ‘for your information,’” Zabu said. 

“Anakin Skywalker!” Anakin said, waving at the one person who he didn’t know. Aayla did the same.

“Aayla Secura!”

“I am Phandrire Sede.” Phandrire said, placing a hand on her heart and bowing her head.

“How…prim.” Galvi said.

“She means to say,” Zabu interpreted, “that you don’t need to be so proper, Phan!” Zabu’s Master chortled in amusement.

“Even so, I like to, my young padawan.” She said. Zabu shrugged.

“Quinlan Vos!” Quinlan mimicked his padawan, waving gaily at Shasa, who raised an eyebrow and then smirked. Obi-wan thought Quinlan was going to faint.

“I’m Obi-wan Kenobi,” Obi-wan said to the humanoid. The other nodded back, the look of sadness growing slightly, much to Obi-wan’s confusion.

“My name is Bant Eerin.” Band said.

“I’m Eeth Koth.”

“Eeth Sloth?” Shasa asked, feigning attentiveness. Eeth didn’t fall for the ruse and instead crossed his arms.

“Eeth Ryloth?” Aayla asked, earning a betrayed look from the Councilor. She giggled and bumped her fist against Anakin’s.

“No,” T’la said, and Eeth dared to look relieved for a second before his hopes were thoroughly crushed. “Eeth _Hoth_.”

“Why does my last name rhyme with so many planets?” Eeth complained. He joined Mace in placing his head in his hands. Possibly to also cry. Obi-wan still didn’t know, and also didn’t _want_ to know. Hopefully, he never became a Councilor, if _this_ was what awaited him on that path. Shasa chuckled and then waggled his fingers gracefully back at Quinlan, who flushed.

“My name is Shasa Pulas. I use masculine pronouns.”

“Me too. I mean, same.” Quinlan stuttered. Obi-wan stared. Quinlan punched Obi-wan’s arm. Fair enough. Instead of staring at Quinlan, which literally everyone else was doing, Obi-wan looked over at Aayla, who was also staring at her Master, but in mortified horror. She looked like she was watching a speeder-wreck and couldn’t look away.

“We have so much in common,” Shasa said with a purr. Obi-wan elected at that moment to pretend none of this was happening. Evidently, T’la had decided the same.

“Yes, we _do_ all have names. Mine is T’la Ro.” Instead of waving with her hands, the roots that made up T’la’s hair danced in the air before settling back down in the usual pixie-cut shape they held. Finally, it was the stranger’s turn, though Eeth and Mace already seemed to know them, as they didn’t even glance up from their assumed weeping. The blond humanoid smiled kindly.

“Hello, my name is Feemor. I use the pronouns he/him/his.” He locked eyes with Obi-wan. “We’re brother padawans.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE SECOND PARAGRAPH!!!!! If you are triggered by panic attacks followed by derealization, please skip the second paragraph. Right before the third paragraph is &&&, that's your safe marker. 
> 
> Also, I'm messing with the timeline of Jedi Apprentice quite a bit just because I can! Don't @ me, this is fanfiction :D. I've also messed with some aspects of the Melida/Daan. Like mentioning babies in a warzone. If that is triggering, please know that this is mentioned in passing. 
> 
> This is, I think, my least friendly to Qui-gon chapter. I like Qui-gon, I truly do, but he's not a good dad. Tahl would be disappointed in him. 
> 
> Other than that, have fun reading this chapter! ~Rozu_chan

Month 4. It was all Obi-wan could do to hold onto the various scraps of himself and not have a complete meltdown the moment he woke up. Anakin was the main reason he held himself together, as well as – much to Obi-wan’s surprise – Feemor. A brother padawan. Obi-wan had thought that Xanatos was the only one. He had been able to keep himself together for the rest of the day, teaching Anakin how to _not_ cheat at Sabacc – Anakin was atrocious at lying, but great at spotting liars – but the moment that he’d felt Anakin drift into the deeper folds of sleep, Obi-wan fell apart.

A deep panic wedged its way into his throat and stayed there, blocking Obi-wan’s ability to breath. Logically, in the back of his mind, Obi-wan knew that he was fully capable of breathing, and was, in fact, taking in quick, panicked breaths, but his mind was stuck in his panic. Thoughts dizzily whirled around in his head, and all at once, it was too much. He was separated from himself. Or _was_ that him? One thought crystalized in his head as he stared, panting, at the hands that didn’t seem to belong to himself, whoever that was. _This doesn’t seem real. Am I real_? The thought swirled around his head, disconnecting him further from the body he was inhabiting. _Healer Ku said something about this…or did she_? She had. Breath choked and rasped in a throat, leading to a dim burning sensation in the chest of the body that the entity was inhabiting, and they cast their gaze around the dimly lit space. _Five things you can see_. An untethered voice said. One. The entity looked at a bed. Two. A wall. Three. Boots. Four. A robe. Five. A door. _Four things you can touch_. One. A blanket. It was soft. Two. The body’s robes. Those were rough. Three. The floor. It was cold. Four. The entity rubbed the body’s fingers through the body’s beard. Rough, but soft. _Three things you can hear_. One. Breathing. Was that the body? Two. The entity made the body tap its fingers together. Huh, he could feel that too. Three. Another rub through the beard produced a rustling noise. Those were his robes. _Two things you can smell_. One. Sweat. His sweat. Obi-wan wrinkled his nose. He was ripe. Two. The lingering smell of Late meal. Stewjoni eggs. Anakin had been adamantly insisting that they both introduce the other to their native foods. That night was Obi-wan’s turn to cook. _One thing you can taste_. Obi-wan smacked his lips. That Alderaani tea. Obi-wan shakily lifted himself off the ground and sat on his bed, hand on his chest to calm the intense burning sensation. _That was unpleasant_ , he thought.

&&&

“I used the 5-4-3-2-1 method the other day,” Obi-wan said to Healer Ku on their first scheduled visit for the fourth month. The Selonian blinked slowly, tail twitching. Obi-wan twisted his fingers together under his robe-sleeves. Rude or not, he felt more confident with it on, and Healer Ku seemed to realize that he needed the veneer of confidence for that meeting.

“Are you comfortable telling me why, or…”

“No, I…” Obi-wan took in a breath and stared at Healer Ku’s left ear. “I just need to find the words.” Healer Ku nodded, and they lapsed into silence. Time went on.

“I met someone that day,” Obi-wan blurted, and then cringed. Jedi Consulars weren’t supposed to blurt, hadn’t he learned that over the years? But did he even want to _be_ a Consular anymore? He technically hadn’t been on that path while he was a padawan, despite the negotiations that he and Qui-gon had attended. Most, if not all of those had ended up being aggressive negotiations or negotiations that were rather short. Technically speaking, Obi-wan was more suited to the role of Guardian. Trained to be a Consular, better suited for the role of Guardian. What _would_ Qui-gon say. Belatedly, Obi-wan realized that he’d said nothing for quite some time. “Ah, apologies.”

“No, that’s quite all right. You have a lot on your mind.” Healer Ku twitched her whiskers forward. Obi-wan smiled shakily back. ‘A lot’ was quite the understatement.

“They were my brother padawan.” He said. It felt good to say it, to blurt. “One that I didn’t know about. One Qui-gon never talked about, and not because he’d gone dark, but because…well…I don’t know why, actually, and neither does Feemor.”

“Is Feemor their name?”

“Yes, he seemed…sad.”

“Like you?”

“Well, yes,” Obi-wan said, knowing that she was referring to his reaction over Qui-gon’s death, “but also because he said he’d wanted to know me, the entire time that I was Qui-gon’s padawan, but he hadn’t known if Qui-gon would welcome him, and then later, he hadn’t known how to approach me.”

“I see.” Healer Ku nodded. “The unknown is a rather difficult hurdle to leap.”

“Indeed.” Obi-wan said. They lapsed into silence once more. “I. I panicked, after Anakin went to bed,” Obi-wan admitted. “I don’t know _why_ , still. Well, maybe I do, but I don’t have the words for it.”

“You don’t need to, at the moment. You’ll get there in your own time.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“I think I need. I. Well.” Obi-wan stopped and tapped his fingertips together.

“You need?”

“Hmm.” Obi-wan threaded the fingers of his hands together and clenched. “I need to talk about my time as Qui-gon’s padawan. Do we have time for that?” Something he appreciated about Healer Ku was that she would actually tell him whether they had enough time for something or not. Obi-wan had a sneaking suspicion, though, that she was currently _making_ time for him to talk about his sordid past, since this was the first he’d ever even _hinted_ at wanting to talk about anything remotely relating to events while he was a younger padawan.

“Yes, we do.” She said after a moment of tapping at her pad. She set the slim piece aside and folded her wrists over her lap. Obi-wan nodded, and then realized something.

“I have to let Anakin know I might run overtime-“

“I have informed Healer Jalanam of the situation. He has nothing else on his schedule today, so he will be helping young Skywalker with his school-work.” Healer Ku promptly interjected. Obi-wan chuckled at the surprising moment of lightheartedness.

“You truly have an answer for everything, don’t you?” He said. Healer Ku’s whiskers twitched forward, and her eyes glittered mischievously.

“Yes.” She said.

“It all began in the creche,” Obi-wan began, and his story spilled from his mouth. Obi-wan was surprised everything was in the right order and coming out as eloquent as it was. The arguments with Bruck, the tournament, the humiliation from Qui-gon, the framing, the early send-off to the Agricorps – a place that Obi-wan had never and would never feel like had been the best choice to send him to – the pirates on the way to Bandomeer, Bandomeer, the kriffing bomb collar, offering his life for the planet, becoming a padawan-

“I always wondered, and always will,” Obi-wan said at that juncture, “whether I was taken as a padawan because Qui-gon didn’t want my death on his conscience, whether I unintentionally blackmailed my way into being a padawan through my actions. I also wonder whether he even wanted me as a padawan, or if he just felt beholden, like he owed me because of what happened there.”

After Bandomeer, the sideways looks, the almost constant stream of missions, getting the call for Melida/Daan, arriving at the war-torn planet, meeting The Young-

“The oldest were my age, thirteen, fourteen years old. The youngest was a baby. They couldn’t even speak yet.”

Cerasi, Neild, Mawat, he named them all. Rescuing Tahl, seeing her injuries, hearing the Force whisper to stay and help, trying to convince Qui-gon, failing, choosing instead to follow the will of the Force, as his Master had taught him, leaving the Jedi, leading a war, _winning_ the war-

“The Jedi aren’t meant for war,” Obi-wan said, tiredly. He and Healer Ku were sitting on the floor on meditation cushions by then. “I learned that, in those tunnels and battlefields. The dead are loud.”

Cerasi being shot, being blamed, calling Qui-gon for help, getting help, returning to the Temple, probation, more stares with whispers this time, Qui-gon showing interest in taking on Bant as a padawan-

“By that juncture, I was having doubts about returning. Additionally, Bant was about to turn thirteen, which was the cutoff date back then, and I didn’t want her to feel as I did. So, I readied myself and gave her my blessings.”

“How did she respond to that?”

“She punched my arm.”

The attempt on Master Yoda’s life, Xanatos, _Bruck_ , Qui-gon finally taking Obi-wan back on, Master Tahl taking _Bant_ on, things finally looking up-

“Which wasn’t to be, of course.”

Becoming a slave again, for a week instead of three that time, almost losing his memory, only keeping it because of the Force-sensitive rock that Qui-gon had given him as a life-day gift when he first became Qui-gon’s padawan-

“Seems odd, I know, but my entire life is odd, so I should probably be more worried that the Force-sensitive rock saving my memories is one of my more normal memories.”

A few years of odd, not-negotiation negotiations interspersed with a few more (longer) stints as a slave, sometimes purposeful, and then Zan Arbor, and this time Obi-wan was the one helping Qui-gon, then Tahl’s death, Qui-gon’s near fall-

“That wasn’t great.”

“No.”

Recovery, Qui-gon’s lack of care, lack of attention, lack of emotion, lack of… _anything_ …

“You had to be the Master.”

“Yes.”

“You know that wasn’t fair to you, don’t you?”

“…”

More recovery, a reaction to his favorite tea, finally, a year or two of relative peace-

“Our combined luck didn’t leave room for missions that didn’t go sour at some point.”

Mandalore and Satine, being unofficially adopted by Clan Kryze-

“Qui-gon seemed concerned that I would become attached or fall in love. He warned against that kind of thing a lot more after Tahl died.”

“And before?”

“I’ve never really been interested in that kind of thing, but he never asked, so I suppose he just assumed. Anyway, he was concerned about Satine and I, but we’re a lot more like Sarcasm Siblings, or at least, that’s the term that she coined while we were on the run.”

“On the run?”

“Oh, right.”

Yes, on the run from Death Watch, an entire year, succeeding in their mission, returning to Coruscant, a series of missions that actually seemed to go right for once, Qui-gon actually talking to Obi-wan more, bantering starting up, being called ‘imp,’ smiles becoming warm instead of politic, and then-

“We got a call from Chancellor Valorum, we were the closest Jedi team to Naboo.”

Qui-gon telling Obi-wan that he still had a lot to learn, retreating to Tatooine with the Queen and her entourage, staying with the ship while Qui-gon went with the Queen – who was in disguise as a handmaiden – to Mos Espa for needed parts, getting a comm about a blood test, watching a podrace and feeling something twist in his stomach, the bond with his Master more cold than it had been recently, the boy seemingly made of sunshine shaking his hand, the Council-

“He probably didn’t mean for it to sound like repudiation-“

“But it did.”

“Yes, and the bond…”

Trying to reach through the bond only to be blocked, being called competent only after Qui-gon pointed out his flaws…to the entire council and Anakin. Naboo again, the words that now seemed like not enough-

“I want to believe that he really believed that…” Obi-wan said, “believed what he said when he said that he foresaw that I would become a great Jedi…”

“There’s a but, there.” Ler – they were on a first-name basis now, Ler had informed him around the end of Melida/Daan and their tenth cup of tea – said, not unkindly. Obi-wan nodded.

“Over and over. I. You know I told you I had a lot of visions when I was an Initiate and Junior Padawan, yes?” Ler nodded. “Mostly they were future-visions, and Qui-gon just always told me to ‘focus on the here and now,’ and ‘the future is always in motion.’”

“That means what, exactly?”

“Nominally, it means Qui-gon didn’t believe in future visions. If the future was always in motion, focusing on the vision would only get in your way. But he believed in prophesy.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Only very slightly. One is visual, the other generally has weird rhyme schemes.”

“So what are you afraid he meant?”

“I. Well. He said ‘I foresee.’ Qui-gon was entirely part of the Living Force. There wasn’t a speck of Unified in him. That I could tell anyway. And he didn’t believe in future-seeing. Did. Did he not. Believe that I could become a Knight? I don’t know. I’d like to leave that for later please, Ler.” 

“Of course. In your own time, Obi-wan.”

Meeting the Gungans, returning to the palace, meeting the Sith – Maul – fighting the Sith, watching Qui-gon get speared through the torso, anger coursing through his veins as he attacked the Sith, being flung into the melting pit, barely managing to grab onto a handy protrusion, losing his lightsaber, calling for Qui-gon’s, using the force to leap over the Sith, biscecting the Sith, running to Qui-gon, holding him in his arms, Qui-gon’s dying words-

“I don’t. I didn’t. Well. I didn’t take Anakin only because Qui-gon wanted me to.” Obi-wan said. “I genuinely like him, and the Force had been urging me to be around Ani even before Qui-gon’s death. I think it always meant for us to be a Teacher-Student team.”

“He might’ve said he was proud of you, though.”

“Well, that too, I guess, but it feels selfish to think so.”

“We need to work on that feeling.”

“Okay.”

Sitting in the generator room holding his Master’s cooling corps, being found by the Queen’s handmaidens, being Knighted, burning his braid with Qui-gon’s body, feeling the ache of his violently torn bond as he felt the tugging of his new bond, the celebration that Obi-wan was lucky he didn’t vomit at. Returning to Coruscant, being sent to therapy.

“And then all this.” Obi-wan waved his hand in a circle. He and Ler had graduated from sitting on the cushions to using them as pillows. When Obi-wan had noticed that it was past evening meal earlier while he was talking about Mandalore, Ler had contacted Healer Jalanam and had him take Anakin to T’la for the night, letting the boy know that Obi-wan would be joining him there after he was done with the session, but that it might take a while so don’t wait up. Ler nodded.

“And then all this,” she echoed.

“I thought I’d feel lighter, somehow, after talking about it.”

“It might take a bit. There are some things I don’t think you’ve taken the time to properly process, which will be rough while you do so. Only after you process can you accept, and only after acceptance…”

“…can you begin healing. I understand that better now, I think.”

“Good.” They lapsed into silence, the first one in quite some time. Obi-wan distantly noticed that his throat felt like someone had tried to make him swallow sand. “Have you tried gardening?”

Obi-wan laughed.


	13. Month 5 - Shmi?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday! This just kinda became update-day, huh?
> 
> IT'S BAIL! EARLIER THAN CANNON! I LOVE THIS MAN! Also, I just love badass Alderaan, so...
> 
> Additionally, I'm saying this now, the next installment is prompts-based, so once that comes out I'll be taking prompts (probably in the comments because I don't really use social media for anything but KITTIES!!!...and fandom stuff too, but mostly kitties) for smol chapters. After a few of those, I'll begin the next installment. I just want a good pad of chapters already finished because school. There are going to be several prompts-based installments for this series. 
> 
> Hmm....any trigger warnings? I suppose there are mentions of slavery. If that triggers you, you've just been warned. 
> 
> Have a good read! ~Rozu_chan

“I want to free Anakin’s mother,” Obi-wan said to T’la one evening. Anakin, Zabu, Aayla, Tru, and Jax had gotten together for a slumber party in Anakin and Obi-wan’s quarters and Obi-wan – remembering his own padawan days – had provided them with enough food to snack on and set the parental controls on the pads before vacating the premises. With all of his friends on mission, and not wanting to bother Auntie Phan (Quinlan had disappeared into the underbelly of Coruscant on a Shadow mission he hadn’t wanted to expose Aayla to), Obi-wan had headed over to T’la’s quarters. Much to his (pleasant) surprise, Feemor was also there. Obi-wan and Feemor had been meeting up once a week to get to know each other better, and Obi-wan found over the two months he’d known Feemor that he rather liked the older man.

“Free his mother?” Feemor asked. He was cupping a gently steaming ceramic cup of tea in his hands. “She’s a slave?” Oh right, Feemor didn’t know. Obi-wan nodded.

“Master Qui-gon was only able to free Anakin at the time, but I know he would have had a working plan in place to go back and free her as well.” He said. T’la hummed and leaned back in her chair and Feemor stared broodingly into his cup.

“That will be difficult,” she said, “as the Order can’t legally free a slave because they’re a slave.” Obi-wan made a sound that approximated how exactly he felt about _that_ particular law. “Yes, my sentiments exactly.”

“Except Qui-gon did,” Feemor said with a sigh. Obi-wan shook his hand in a so-so gesture, something he’d picked up from Anakin.

“He made a bet so we could complete our mission and Anakin’s freedom just happened to be on the line as well.” Obi-wan said. “It was important to get a working hyperdrive for our cruiser, so the bet was placed on the podrace that Anakin won. Master Qui-gon tried to add Shmi’s freedom as well, as I recall, but the Toydarian who was Anakin’s master would have retracted the whole thing. As it was, he almost didn’t go through with it when Anakin won the race. Only the threat of Gardulla the Hutt stopped him.”

“What was the name of this Toydarian?” Feemor asked. He had looked up with a far-away look in his eyes that Obi-wan had come to realize meant the older Knight was in deep thought. _Not brooding, then_.

“Watto, I believe.” Obi-wan answered. Feemor hummed in response, and Obi-wan glanced over at T’la, who was lightly tapping her fingers on the table. A corner of her slit-mouth tilted downward.

“I have been trying to get permission from the council to go on an undisclosed mission to Tatooine,” she admitted, “I was attempting to give them plausible deniability in case things went south. So far, they haven’t capitulated.”

“We can’t approach the subject like that, I don’t think.” Feemor said, coming out of his trance. “That wouldn’t be subtle enough.”

“No,” Obi-wan agreed. He placed his hands flat on the table to stop himself from tucking them into his sleeves. “ _We_ can’t be the ones to go to the Council. Someone from the _Senate_ must request a Jedi or two for a personal trip to Tatooine for undisclosed reasons. If said person requests the help of _certain_ Jedi, all the better.”

“You’ve thought about this.” T’la’s fingers resumed their tapping, having stopped when Obi-wan had laid out part of a plan. Her green eyes bored into Obi-wan’s blue-grey, and for once, that level of eye-contact didn’t feel like judgement. “You have an entire plan.” Obi-wan nodded.

“I was going to enact it after the six months were up,” he said, “but as it is, I’m beginning to think that freeing Shmi should come sooner rather than later, if not for her sake, then for Anakin’s.”

“A Force vision?” Feemor asked. He had placed his cup – now empty – on the table and had his arms crossed. 

“No,” Obi-wan said, “just a general feeling.” And a lot of talking with Anakin, which wasn’t something he was going to talk about. He wouldn’t – couldn’t – betray his padawan’s confidence like that. Feemor nodded in understanding.

“This is highly illegal. Which Senator?” The older man asked, catching Obi-wan’s gaze. Obi-wan shifted, uncertain.

“I…haven’t thought that far yet. I have a decent outline of the plan, but no idea who would be a good candidate other than a list of potential people.”

“That’s still more than we had earlier,” T’la said, suddenly cheerful. She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Let’s see the candidates!” Obi-wan smiled back helplessly and listed them out. He hadn’t written any of this down for the obvious reason that this really _was_ highly illegal, and so all of the plan had just been fermenting in his brain.

“Alderaan is a good bet, but so is Naboo.” Feemor said, stroking his chin. Obi-wan caught himself just in time to stop himself from replicating the extremely Qui-gon action. He crossed his arms instead.

“Ryloth, too.” T’la added. “In fact, they may be the most willing to fake a diplomatic visit for the sole purpose of freeing at least one slave. They may even use the opportunity to subtly free more.”

“That should be a separate mission, I think,” Obi-wan said, reluctant to even say the words. In every Jedi’s opinion, the less slavery in the galaxy, the better. Unfortunately, however, their hands were metaphorically tied with the mid-rim and outer-rim.

“Yes. So, Alderaan or Naboo?” Feemor tapped his chin.

“Alderaan, in that case,” T’la immediately answered. “They have the best slave relocation program in the galaxy, and I’ve never met a sneakier, more cunning group of people in all the time I’ve been alive. And that’s saying something, since I’ve been alive longer than Master Fay.”

“Mandalor,” Obi-wan countered, earning a sarcastic so-so handwave from T’la.

“Alderaan was literally one of the only planets in the galaxy to single-handedly hold their own against the Mandalorian Empire in its hey-day.” T’la retorted. Obi-wan sighed dejectedly at T’la’s victorious grin. Feemor just chuckled at their antics and sipped his tea.

“So, Alderaan then. Do we know who the Senator is?” He asked, trying to get them back on track.

“Bail Antilles,” Obi-wan and T’la answered at the same time. Obi-wan made a face. As far as politicians went, Bail Antilles was one of the better ones, but still, _politicians_. “His aide is Bail Organa.” Obi-wan added. Keeping up-to-date with Senate matters was just habit by this point, having been drilled by Qui-gon almost every cycle on the information.

“So, since I haven’t been on Senate duty is over a decade,” Feemor said, smugly sitting back in his seat and flashing a grin at Obi-wan, “I guess that means _you_ get to contact the good Senator.” Obi-wan sputtered out an objection.

“That may be difficult, as he’s still Temple-bound,” T’la said drily. “Additionally, we’ve repulsed any overtures from the Chancellor himself. Several times.” Obi-wan thought that if T’la’s voice got any drier, he and Feemor would be watching her shrivel up into a husk.

“Several?” Obi-wan asked, flummoxed. “I only know of the two.” T’la sniffed and crossed her arms.

“Several attempts through the Council,” she said, “Eeth has been keeping them in line, though it hasn’t taken much prodding. Only a few people wanted to follow through with those overtures in the first place, and _they’re_ easily overruled by everyone else.” Obi-wan felt a knotting in his gut, dread settling in to stay.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” He asked, belatedly realizing his voice was a tad shrill. Feemor sat up in his chair, a serious, almost protective look in his eyes. _At my panic_ , Obi-wan realized, _he’s getting protective because I’m panicking. How novel_. Obi-wan took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before letting it out, mentally counting through the 5-4-3-2-1 cycle.

“Why is the Chancellor so persistent?” Feemor asked, keeping an eye on Obi-wan. T’la shrugged. Anyone who didn’t know her would think it was nonchalant, but Obi-wan and Feemor knew better. Neti or no, T’la had some serious mothering instincts of the fierce kind.

“Who knows with that man?” she said. The three lapsed into silence.

“If we made the comm secure…” Feemor said, slowly, “say, Shadow level encryption, and made sure that the good Senator Aide was in a safe and secure room…”

“We could still have Obi-wan be the voice…” T’la added. “But where would we get the encryption?” Obi-wan sighed and unfolded his arms.

“I may or may not know someone who may or may not be a Shadow,” Obi-wan said reluctantly. “We would just need to wait for them to return from their mission, which I was told wouldn’t take longer than a three-day, at most.”

&&&

Three days later, Obi-wan, Feemor, T’la, and Quinlan were back in T’la’s quarters, sitting around a Shadow encrypted comm.

“Alright, so. The encryption will keep any listening devices on the other end from hearing anything other than static, though we haven’t found a way to make it sound like static to anyone but the intended receiver.” Quinlan said. He was draped artlessly over his chair, leg propped up on Obi-wan’s lap. He had frowned at Quinlan when the Kiffar had placed his leg there, but said nothing, and hadn’t made a move to dislodge his friend.

“What about other recording devices?” Obi-wan asked. He already knew the answers because Quinlan had talked to him about it before, but Obi-wan knew that T’la wouldn’t know anything. Quinlan grinned roguishly and shook his head.

“Naw, those don’t work either. Your face’ll be blurred, the works.” Obi-wan watched as T’la relaxed back into her chair. Of them all, she’d been the most worried about Obi-wan potentially breaking the semi-probation. Something about a ‘breach of ethics’ and potential ramifications and complications for Obi-wan’s career. Feemor shrugged and reached over to plug in the comm number of the Alderaan office.

“Yes, this is the Alderaanian Senate offices, Bail Organa speaking.” A young man, just a few years younger than Obi-wan, picked up the comm. This was the aide.

“This is Jedi Knight Kenobi, calling on a secure line on a matter of some urgency. May I speak with the Senator, please?” They had checked the Senator’s schedule before-hand. Now was a break, but not a meal-time, nor was the Senator meeting with anyone. The young man shifted in the hologram, looking a tad suspicious. This was why Obi-wan didn’t like politicians. Everything had to have a deeper meaning. Well, this time did, in fact, have a deeper meaning, but that wasn’t the point. T’la held up a flimsipad from the other side of the table reading ‘tell him ‘it was either this or a fish-market.’’ Obi-wan, confused, recited the line.

“Please wait one moment.” Organa said, suspicion wiped from his face and replaced with stoic professionalism and a politician’s smile. The comm winked out before returning with Organa back in frame, having obviously moved locations. “Senator Antilles wouldn’t be the best person for this discussion.” He admitted, “fish markets aren’t in his purview, though he doesn’t approve of them.”

“Fish markets?” Obi-wan finally asked, looking to T’la. Organa stiffened.

“Is there someone there with you?” That suspicion was back. Joy. Obi-wan stifled a sigh, which wouldn’t have been at _all_ professional.

“Yes, only people who know of this and are part of the plan.” Obi-wan said. Organa looked like he wanted to strangle Obi-wan. Obi-wan rather felt the same way about Organa.

“Plan.” Organa said flatly.

“I assume ‘fish markets’ is the subtle term for ‘slave markets,’ yes?” Obi-wan continued as soon as he got a reluctant nod from the Senatorial Aide. “There is someone we need to free from Tatooine. However, as the law dictates, Jedi may not free a slave with the purpose of freeing them unless the slave is located on a Republic planet, since slavery is – as you know – _banned_ in the Republic.” Organa made a noise that to Obi-wan sounded like surprise. He paused and tilted his head inquisitively, but Organa motioned for Obi-wan to continue. He took a moment to notice that the murder had almost disappeared from Organa’s expression. That or the aide was excellent at hiding it. Since he was a politician, Obi-wan was betting on the latter.

“We created a plan for a Senator or one of their staff to request particular Jedi as protection for a trip to Tatooine. What exactly that trip would be about would be left up to the person in question. Once permission is granted, the Senator or other person would make a stop in Mos Espa and stay long enough for the Jedi to free the slave while under cover. Maybe a day-cycle or two.” Obi-wan leaned back after he finished his spiel. The plan was out there, now. Hopefully, Organa wouldn’t screw them over.

“Funds?” And now came the questioning. Obi-wan straightened back up.

“Pooled from the stipends we’ve never touched. Enough to buy her freedom once it’s been converted to Wupiupi.”

“Plans for after?”

“Returning to the Temple for now – she has a son here – and then wherever she wants to go, after. We’ll help her with that, whatever decision she ends up making.”

“What if you can’t free her this time?”

“Then we try again.”

“If that doesn’t work?”

“Then we try again, and again, and _again_ , until we _do_.” Organa looked thoughtful at Obi-wan’s responses.

“Hypothetically,” the younger man said, “if I went to the Council wishing Jedi protection on a trip to Tatooine to find a particular flower for my fiancé, which Jedi, hypothetically, should I be asking for?” Obi-wan relaxed. Now, Organa was speaking Obi-wan’s language.

“Hypothetically,” Obi-wan replied smoothly with a smile (Quinlan snorted and muttered under his breath about flirting) “you should ask for Jedi Knights Galvi Rirr and Feemor.” Organa smiled back, and Obi-wan ignored Quinlan’s horrified ‘Oh Force, there’s _two_ of them’ mutterings.

“Then, _hypothetically_ ,” Organa said, “I shall look forward to seeing the Council chambers for the first time since I became an aide. Hypothetically, of course.” They signed off after some polite farewells in the Alderaani manner.

“Y’know,” Quinlan said, swinging an arm around Obi-wan’s shoulders. Obi-wan put up with it with a grunt. “I know that you don’t do romance and all, but that was some _intense_ flirting.” Obi-wan wrinkled his nose.

“There was no flirting.” He said. Quinlan shrugged.

“There may not have been, but that’s what it sounded like, man.” Obi-wan cast his gaze over to T’la and Feemor, who both nodded sympathetically. Obi-wan hid his face in his hands, feeling his face heat up in an intense blush. _Not again_.


	14. Month 5 - Shmi!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY SPOOKIEST OF DAYS!!! IT'S A BLUE MOON!! EXTRA SPOOK!!   
> I've slipped a Princess Bride reference in there, if you can find it!
> 
> Happy reading!! ~Rozu_chan

The next day – at exactly 11:oo hours – both Galvi and Feemor received a summons from the Council.

“We have…received…a mission.” Galvi said, waving her comm in the air. The Therapy Family (which had unofficially grown to add Obi-wan and Anakin’s friends and Feemor) minus Mace and Eeth were lounging in T’la’s quarters and sans the padawans who were off doing something that Obi-wan knew he would need plausible deniability for. The smile on Anakin’s face as they’d left had been nothing short of mischievous.

“One that is quote, delicate, end-quote.” Feemor added, chuckling amusedly at the wording. “I think Mace ran out of patience with us. This is all so extravagantly worded.”

“I detect…a hint of Eeth in the wording as well. Particularly…this bit on following orders. What a laugh.” Galvi was likewise finding amusement in the summons, and the two Knights swung their go-bags over their shoulders and left post-haste.

“Well,” T’la said, sinking further into the couch, “I think this will go quite splendidly.” Obi-wan – who was pinned under Quinlan’s arm and couldn’t move because the Kiffar was too busy making eyes at Shasa – nodded at the sentiment. Shasa – to Quinlan’s obvious delight – was making eyes back, though the Nabooian had confided in Obi-wan that he wasn’t taking the flirtation seriously at the moment.

“I would have preferred you didn’t say something like that,” Auntie Phan complained, “it’s akin to saying ‘I have a bad feeling about this’ during a mission. Everything _instantly_ goes sideways.”

“And usually in the worst way,” Bant said. Obi-wan grimaced at that, remembering that the dreaded phrase had been uttered by himself at the beginning of the Naboo mission. If only he’d known that the bad feeling that had persisted through the mission was about the Sith and Qui-gon’s death, and not the mission in general. Perhaps Qui-gon may have yet lived. Or perhaps not. That man had been an aggravating series of contradictions, not the least of which being his famous dismissiveness of the Unified Force while simultaneously revering prophesy. What had that been about anyway? Obi-wan still didn’t understand and he’d had a good 12-ish years under his belt as the man’s padawan, if he ignored all those times he wasn’t technically a Jedi.

“Well, it’s been said, so we can only hope that the Force is with us this time,” Obi-wan said. The others murmured their agreement and T’la flicked on the holonews for them to watch while they waited for updates.

One update came a standard hour later, with only the words “They’re on their way. Happy?” The update was – predictably – from Mace. T’la responded back with zeal: “😊!!”

“Mace says to leave off the faces when comming him while he’s being the Master of the Order.” Eeth informed the group a while later. “He’s currently snubbing you all, though he didn’t put it that way.”

“How’d our exalted Master of the Order put it?” Quinlan asked, partly sarcastic and partly curious. The corners of Eeth’s mouth twitched up in a contained smile.

“What he said was a lot more explicit.” Was the reply. Everyone in the room fell into laughter as the holonews played in the background.

The next update came a few days later, this time from Feemor straight to Obi-wan’s comm through the secure comm that Quinlan had…liberated…for the unofficial mission. “Arrived Mos Eisley.” It read. “ETA Mos Espa 3 day-cycles.” Obi-wan was quick to inform the others minus Eeth and Mace. The two Council members still needed some plausible deniability from the undeniably – and unfortunately – illegal actions the group was currently taking.

Another update, three day-cycles later, detailed that Feemor, Galvi, and Bail Organa had arrived in Mos Espa safely and had started to subtly enact the plan. By this point, Anakin had realized that something was up – and that it had to do with him – the bond he and Obi-wan had was so strong by that point that he could tell when Obi-wan was obfuscating.

“What’s going on, Obi-wan?” He asked that evening.

“We got an update from Feemor and Galvi,” Obi-wan replied, which was the truth, “they were letting us know how their mission was going.” Which was _also_ the truth. An obfuscation, but still the truth.

“Hmm…” Anakin eyed Obi-wan. He knew that Obi-wan wasn’t telling him everything, but he’d also sussed out that whatever Obi-wan wasn’t telling him wasn’t bad, so he let it go. For the moment, at least.

“ _Sounds fake, but okay_ ,” He sent over to Obi-wan. Well, it didn’t hurt to let him know he was going to be looking for more information later. Obi-wan smirked back, a clear challenge. “ _I accept_!”

“ _This will test your grasp on your skills of negotiation_.” Which, of course, were decidedly _not_ up to snuff. As patient as Obi-wan’s padawan was becoming, Anakin was still a child whose idea of polite asking was essentially making a demand with ‘please’ tacked onto the end of it as an afterthought. 

Two day-cycles later, Obi-wan received another comm-message. “Package acquired, Coruscant-bound.” He could barely contain his excitement to a bare simmer, so as to not tip off Anakin. Obi-wan didn’t know when he’d decided to have his mother be a surprise to the boy, but he was essentially backflipping through flaming hoops while being shot at by blasters without the use of his lightsaber to keep Anakin guessing what Obi-wan wasn’t telling him. His padawan didn’t seem to mind at all, taking the obfuscation as a continuation of their challenge. _This really does help his investigative skills_ , Obi-wan mused as he walked down the halls, ignoring the sound of pattering feet darting from one pillar to the next behind him. _Though perhaps not his stealth, so much_.

“New news?” T’la asked, causing Obi-wan to jump in surprise. He hadn’t heard her approach, and the Force had remained silent. Now, he sent out a question to the Force, and received mischievous amusement in return. _Helpful_ , he thought. Obi-wan smiled at T’la’s expectant expression.

“The package is Coruscant-bound,” he said, spying Anakin peering out from behind a pillar. T’la’s eyes widened.

“Oh?” Obi-wan nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh!” T’la laughed and ruffled Obi-wan’s hair, instantly creating a mess. Obi-wan knew he would have to sort that out later, but all he felt in the moment was a warmth growing in his chest at the familial action. Qui-gon had often done the same, but there had always been the distance of Master-padawan – and a history of hurt on both sides – between the two of them that made such an action less familial than it perhaps should have been.

The next update let Obi-wan know that they had arrived on Coruscant and were in the healing wing to take care of the slave-chip, as well as completing a physical for Shmi that would hasten her citizenship to the Republic, which was additionally being sponsored by Bail Organa himself. Shmi would be entering the Republic as a citizen of Alderaan, something she had decided for herself on the trip back to Coruscant. Through that much longer update, Feemor had informed Obi-wan that he had some suspicions that Shmi was doing so in order to be a part of Alderaan’s unofficial slave freeing team. Obi-wan wasn’t exactly surprised at that news. Everything that he knew about Shmi from Anakin detailed a woman with a durasteel-core who wouldn’t be happy sitting still and ignoring injustices. She was – in Anakin’s words – the Two Suns in mortal form. His padawan had been feeling poetic that day. Speaking of his padawan…

“Anakin,” Obi-wan said, already messaging Feemor back to tell him to make their way over to his and Anakin’s quarters with Shmi once things were settled over there.

“ _Yes_?” Through the bond, of course.

“Anakin, we are sitting next to each other.”

“ _So_?”

“We can converse in the usual manner.”

“ _I feel closer to you like this_.” Anakin met Obi-wan’s gaze with wide, pleading blue eyes. _Attachment_ , Qui-gon whispered in Obi-wan’s mind. Obi-wan realized that it had been a few weeks since the last time he’d heard that. He couldn’t deny those eyes though, attachment or no. Obi-wan reached out through the bond and wrapped affection around Anakin’s presence. Anakin glowed in happiness in response.

“ _Just for this once, padawan_ ,” Obi-wan acquiesced, knowing it wouldn’t be just this once. He was surprisingly at peace with that realization. “ _You know the part that I wasn’t telling you about Feemor and Galvi’s trip_?” Anakin nodded and enveloped Obi-wan in affection in return. It felt rather like a sun was hugging Obi-wan’s brain, which was intense – almost overwhelming, really – but not unwelcome. Obi-wan gathered his thoughts before speaking.

“ _They went to Tatooine_ ,” was as far as he got before Anakin gasped and leapt onto Obi-wan’s lap from where he’d been sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Their faces were inches apart, and Obi-wan had to go slightly cross-eyed to keep eye contact with his charge. Anakin had gone serious, staring intently into Obi-wan’s face. His presence was still wrapped around Obi-wan’s, but it had loosened enough that Obi-wan felt less like he was sitting in the middle of a star, which helped him to gather his thoughts more easily.

“Did they see mom?” He asked, so intense was his focus that Obi-wan almost felt consumed by the blue stare in a way that only children could manage. Obi-wan perhaps should have been more surprised than he was, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Attachment or no, Anakin had truly become like a son or brother in the scant few months they had together. If Anakin had used those eyes for negotiations earlier in the challenge, Shmi wouldn’t have remained a surprise for as long as she did.

“They did a bit more than that,” he said. Anakin gasped, and gently grasped both sides of Obi-wan’s face in his small hands. “She’s in the healing ward having the chip taken out and a physical done, like you had. They’ll be on their way here when she’s done with that.” Anakin buried his head in Obi-wan’s neck and wrapped his arms around Obi-wan’s shoulders, shaking through his emotion. Obi-wan ignored the growing wet-spot on his robe and hugged Anakin back with all his strength, trying to provide a grounding presence. When Anakin’s force-presence re-wrapped itself around Obi-wan’s, seeking comfort, Obi-wan willingly lowered his shields more fully to allow the boy in. They stayed twined together, brother and brother, father and son, until the door-chime sounded.

“I’ll get it!” Anakin tumbled from Obi-wan’s lap and raced to the door. Obi-wan stood and brushed his robes straight. Judgement time. Or near enough to it.

There in the doorway stood Shmi Skywalker, dressed moderately but better than she would have been on Tatooine. She and her son were locked in an embrace similar to the one that he and Anakin had been in just seconds prior. Obi-wan smiled at the love and affection permeating the Force around the two and looked past them to give the mother and son some time together. Behind Shmi was Feemor, as Obi-wan had expected, but then there was another person that Obi-wan _hadn’t_ expected. Bail Organa. Obi-wan gestured Feemor and the Senatorial Aide into the kitchen to give Shmi and Anakin some privacy. _Council, talk_. Feemor signed, shaking his head with a crooked smile and walking away. Organa elegantly swept into the kitchen.

“Tea?” Obi-wan offered, already filling the pot with water. Organa made a sound that Obi-wan took to mean ‘yes.’

“From all of the rumors,” Organa said, “I had expected the temple to be more…bare.” Obi-wan glanced up from where he’d been setting the kettle on the stove to see Organa examining one of the various knick-knacks that Obi-wan had picked up on his various missions as a padawan. They were lining most of the windows, pretty transparisteel sculptures of almost every color imaginable that were made to catch light and reflect designs onto the walls. One of Obi-wan’s few curios he’d allowed himself to collect. Almost every planet he’d visited had some form of sculpture using transparisteel, which he’d found absolutely fascinating at the time: and he still did.

“Likewise from all the rumors,” Obi-wan retorted, “I had expected a politician to be more…extravagant in their manner.” Organa looked over sharply at Obi-wan, an unreadable expression on his face before he capitulated and chuckled, instantly becoming more approachable.

“Touche,” Organa said. He’d visibly relaxed at the repartee, shoulders sinking from their stiff attention. “I suppose I’ve been operating too long on the assumptions that I didn’t know I even had about Jedi.” _I’ve not heard that before from a Republic politician_ , Obi-wan thought, pleasantly surprised. Something similar, perhaps, from the previous Chancellor – he _had_ been friends with Qui-gon, after all – but overall, politicians were the ones who seemed to distrust the Jedi the most, and believe all the rumors that Jedi were but droids in flesh form, unfeeling. The kettle whistled, and Obi-wan filled the tea-pot that held a mild Alderaanian tea.

“I too, may have been basing my choice of tone on the mere fact that you are a politician.” Obi-wan produced his favorite teacups from the dish-cupboard. Organa chuckled again.

“What kind of tone _do_ you take usually, then?”

“I’ve been told that it’s a mixture of sarcastic and purposefully vague.” Obi-wan joined Organa in his laughter and thought that maybe he’d found a politician he’d be able to call a friend. Maybe.

“Issat tea, Obi-wan?” Anakin asked, walking into the kitchen while leading his mother by the hand. Obi-wan nodded, bowing to Shmi.

“The mild Alderaanian herbal,” Obi-wan said, “since I know all the others taste like ‘leafy green bitter juice’ to you.” Anakin flustered and blushed but grinned sheepishly under his mother’s tender look of admonishment. Obi-wan poured the tea into the four cups and passed them around.

“These are the good leaves!” Organa said after taking a sip. Obi-wan twinkled at Organa over the rim of him cup and took a sip. Fruity with a hint of Alderaanian mint. Not an actual robust tea, but excellent at any point of the day. 

“This _is_ lovely,” Shmi said. Anakin hummed agreement around his cup, his eyes glued to her.

“I’m glad you think so,” Obi-wan said.

“Anakin, are you going to introduce us?” Shmi looked expectantly at her son, and Anakin smiled up at her adoringly. Obi-wan subtly looked into the force. Yes, that one dark spot that had plagued his padawan had disappeared, a shadow banished by a nightlight. Good. Obi-wan felt something in him relax and he returned to the present moment.

“Mom, this is Obi-wan Kenobi! He’s my teacher, and I call him Prof!” Anakin said excitedly while waving in Obi-wan’s direction. Obi-wan bowed to Shmi once again. “Obi-wan, this is my mom!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Shmi Skywalker.” Obi-wan said. Shmi nodded back with a smile and didn’t bring up Qui-gon. Perhaps Anakin had warned her. Obi-wan found himself to be desperately grateful. That entire debacle on Naboo was something he didn’t think he could emotionally deal with at the moment.

The four spent the rest of the evening together, with various members of the Therapy Family popping in over its course, and by the time the guests had to leave, Obi-wan was on a first-name basis with both Bail and Shmi.

For the rest of that month until Shmi made the move to Alderaan, she made visits to the temple secretly, as Obi-wan had informed her about he and Anakin being temple-bound and not technically being allowed visitors because of that. Before she’d gone, Shmi had managed to wrangle out a promise that the two would come and visit her on Alderaan at least twice in a standard year. In all honesty, that promise hadn’t taken much persuasion on her part. No that she’d tried to persuade.

“You will both come visit me twice a year,” she’d said.

“Of course,” Obi-wan had answered, bowing. Shmi had smiled, enveloped both Obi-wan and Anakin in her arms, called them both ‘my boys,’ and swept onto the transport without a glance backwards.

&&&

“I don’t want to hear about this Force-damned plot ever again,” Mace said one evening during a family dinner. Eeth nodded in agreement.

“Not in the least because we’re both on the Council and so would have to report anyone involved in such a scandal,” the Zabrak said drily. T’la laughed and patted her old padawan on the back just as he took a bite of food. Since she was quite a bit stronger than she looked, the Council member choked on his food before he glared at his old Master.

“No worries,” Obi-wan said, smiling conspiratorially with Anakin, “no one in their right minds would bring up those kinds of actions in future conversations, even though a plot like the one _you’re_ suggesting would never happen in the first place, Mace. After all,” Obi-wan looked on in amusement as Mace glared at him with as much non-hatred (since hatred was an emotion Jedi most _certainly_ did not feel, no sir) as he could muster, “we Jedi are beholden to the Senate and Republic. To break one of their laws would be…well…inconceivable.”

“Well put,” T’la said, raising a glass of water to toast Obi-wan. Obi-wan raised his own glass of water back.

“I…concure,” Galvi said, chuckling in her most dramatic of tones. “We wouldn’t want to be the reason for Mace getting another ulcer.”

“She means since we value Mace’s wellbeing, and that of the Council’s, we won’t discuss the entirely hypothetical plot.” Zabu translated as Mace growled as many expletives as he knew at the Arkanian Knight. She sipped her drink and avoided the livid Councilor’s gaze.

“All’s well that ends well,” Aunt Phan said with a shrug.

“I’ll drink to that,” Feemor said, and then did.


	15. Month 6 - A Happy Ending!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! The last chapter! Thank you all for sticking with me!! AGAIN THERE IS MORE TO THIS SERIES!! Will be coming. The first chapter of the next part will be coming out maybe today maybe tomorrow, depending on how I feel. 
> 
> In other news: Chaos has been happening in the news. Please take care of yourselves, and if it gets overwhelming, absolutely TURN OFF the news and notifications and ignore the outside world. That is healthy and good self-care. <3
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and remember to check the series! ~Rozu_chan

Month 6 almost came and went without Obi-wan noticing. In fact, they were three weeks into the last month of being temple-bound that Anakin brought it up.

“Hey, Obi-wan,” the boy said, hanging over the back of the couch and watching as Obi-wan diced some vegetables for a cottage pie. “What’s being a regular padawan like?”

“You are one,” Obi-wan replied immediately. That subject had come up in the third month of them being temple-bound, with rumors flying about – mainly among initiates and younger padawans, of course – that the reason the famous Sith-killer and hero of Naboo were temple-bound was because the Council wished to see if Anakin was eligible to be a padawan. Kind of like a trial period. Which was, of course, false, and something that Obi-wan had to reassure Anakin of profusely.

“I don’t gotta lightsaber though?” Anakin said. He was no longer at the point where he thought that the only reason a Jedi was a Jedi was because of the lightsaber, but Obi-wan knew that deep down he was still thinking along those lines. Obi-wan certainly did up until Naboo. After…well…he knew better, after.

“If, after six months, the healers deem us ready enough to resume duties-“

“We’ve got a week ‘til then,” Anakin said. Obi-wan, about to remind Anakin that interruptions weren’t generally looked kindly upon, stopped sautéing the vegetables he’d chopped in surprise. What?

“What?”

“In a week we’ll’ve been goin’ to the healers for six months.”

“What?”

“In-“

“No, no. I heard, I was just directing that question at the galaxy in general.”

“I don’t think the galaxy is gonna have an answer for ya.”

“No, I don’t think so either…a week. A week?”

“Yeah, why d’you keep saying that?” Anakin had walked over by then and taken over sautéing the vegetables while Obi-wan stared blankly in the middle distance, frozen. A week.

“I’m in shock,” Obi-wan admitted, gaze lowering slowly to watch his padawan expertly brown the food. He gently tapped Anakin on the shoulder and took over before his beloved padawan could _blacken_ the food. Not that Obi-wan didn’t appreciate some good old carbonization at times, but he did like there to be _some_ variety. With Anakin, food was either completely raw or burnt to a crisp. He was rather like Qui-gon in that regard. _Though_ , Obi-wan thought, adding the vegetables to the casserole dish, _that’s the only real area where he and Qui-gon are alike_.

A warm presence wrapped itself around Obi-wan’s shielding through the training bond, which by now had progressed to more of a parent-child bond. Something that Mace had said was going to be a pain to deal with in the future, and T’la had happily cooed over. Obi-wan smiled. This. This was what was the most different. Unlike Qui-gon, Anakin wasn’t afraid in the least of showing his love. Then again, most younglings weren’t afraid of that. Obi-wan reciprocated the action that Anakin had deemed a ‘force-hug,’ something that Obi-wan and his crechemates had done for years before they had to go and grow up. Perhaps they should start that up again. Certainly, their mental health wouldn’t be damaged by the action.

“I’m alright, Ani, truly.”

“Okay…hey, Obi-wan?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something? I’ve been talking about it with Healer Jalanam, an’ I wanna ask you before the six months are up.” Obi-wan nodded encouragingly as he layered the mashed tubers on top of the fried vegetables. “Okay, I wanna have nicknames, yanno, like how Bant, Vos, an’ the others have ‘em for you.” This was something emotionally involved for Anakin, Obi-wan could tell. Over the six months – _six months, Force_ – that Anakin had been on Coruscant, he’d been slowly incorporating the diction that came from around him. But in emotionally charged moments, his old way of speaking would come out full force. Perhaps that would change the longer he and Obi-wan were together as a team. Obi-wan placed the casserole dish in the oven, set a timer, and then gently took Anakin’s hand in his and led the boy to the couch. They sat facing each other.

“Of course we can, Ani. I already call you ‘Ani,’ don’t I?”

“Most times, yeah. I wanna call you ‘Obi’ though, cause, yanno, yourlikemydad.” Obi-wan felt a lump rise in his throat and an ach begin to make itself known behind his eyes. He cleared his throat and pressed down the feeling. He wouldn’t cry.

“I…I’ve already been calling you ‘balach grèine’ and ‘mo phàiste’ interchangeably in my head,” the Knight admitted, glad that his beard had grown in enough that it served its purpose and mostly hid his blush. Anakin leaned in and stared up at Obi-wan expectantly, rather looking like he was about to cry as well.

“Wassat mean?”

“Oh, the first one is literally ‘sunshine boy-‘”

“Because I’m from Tatooine?”

“Yes, and because of your force signature. It’s very warm and bright. Like a sun.” Anakin grinned brightly.

“And the other?” He asked. Obi-wan cleared his throat again.

“My child.” There was no more talking after that, only crying and hugging, the Force-bond truly becoming that of a parent and a child. Or perhaps, a brother and a brother. The Force, mystical and wondrous, heaved a galactic sigh of happiness, radiating pure love and light into the galaxy and beyond.

&&&

In his high perch in the Senate building, Palpatine cursed as the Light blinded his sight.

“No, I refuse!” He growled at the Force. “You will _bow_ to my whims! I _will_ become that boy’s new master!” He slammed his fists on the desk in anger, breaking it in two. The Sith growled out a few choice curses and abruptly calmed himself. “I’ll just have to put pressure on the Temple.” He decided. Yes. Once Skywalker and that insolent fool who styled himself ‘Sith-killer’ were free of their temple-binding, Palpatine would be free to poison the boy’s mind as was his will. Palpatine let himself chuckle for all of a minute before sweeping out of his offices, a congenial, grandfatherly smile on his face. Yes. Skywalker would soon be his and Kenobi destroyed, one way or the other.

&&&

Later that week, Obi-wan once again sat in Ler’s office.

“I didn’t realize it was the sixth month,” he said, accepting the tea she’d just boiled with a nod of thanks. After his break-down – break-through, whatever – in the 4th month, Obi-wan had just stopped counting the weeks, actually talking with Ler through his various traumas. There were many. That wasn’t to say…

“I don’t feel as though any progress has been made.” He said, staring into his tea. Which was disappointing. Anakin seemed so excited about potentially going to Ilum and finding a kyber crystal for his very own lightsaber. Ler sipped quietly at her own tea for a moment before responding. _Trying to find the right words_ , Obi-wan thought, amused that he was able to read his mind-healer like that now.

“No one does.” She said, “I’ve been going to a mind-healer myself for years now.” Obi-wan nodded. They’d spoken about that before, to help Obi-wan understand that therapy wasn’t as unmentionable as he’d been unintentionally taught. Ler looked up from her cup and caught Obi-wan’s eyes with her own. “Day to day, week to week, I never feel like anything’s changed, like I’ve made any progress.” Obi-wan nodded, and Ler’s whiskers twitched in her smile.

“And yet,” she said, “three months ago, you refused to even think about your padawanship as a series of traumatic events.” Obi-wan furrowed his brows. Well, now that he thought about it…

“Additionally,” Ler said, “When we begin our sessions now, you immediately open up about the times you’ve had panic attacks and derealized, and come to the conclusions on why they happened and how you can avoid those triggers again _by yourself_. This wouldn’t have happened even _two_ months ago.” Obi-wan shifted, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. “Aside from your objection to any kind of personal praise, I think that I would give you a green light on going back onto the field with the condition that these weekly meetings continue – through comm, if on mission – for the foreseeable future.”

“What if I can’t make the session for some reason or other?” Obi-wan asked, thinking back to the entirely too many times comms had been lost or broken, or they’d been in a place that completely blocked any signal, or even, he and Qui-gon having been in a situation that made any kind of communication outside of themselves impossible. Mandalore came to mind, though it wasn’t the only example he could list off the top of his head. Ler tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, those times will be excused, obviously.” Her whiskers curved forwards in the biggest smile her people could make. “I’ve seen and heard of quite a few examples of that just from you.” Obi-wan laughed, relieved. Fears assuaged, Obi-wan changed the subject.

“Anakin asked if we could have nicknames for each other the other day…”

&&&

“Both your mind-healers and the head of the department feel that the two of you are sound of mind and soul enough to return to active duty,” Mace’s solemn voice permeated the Council room, “provided the two of you continue weekly sessions barring…complications…for the foreseeable future.” Obi-wan bowed in acknowledgement, Anakin copying him. While the young boy felt a bit shaky in the force, Obi-wan was glad to note that the signature was shaky with nerves and not fear. Evidently, watching the Master of the Order be pelted with tubers for cursing at the dinner table wiped the fear of Anakin’s previous experience with the full council from his mind.

“Yes, Masters.” Obi-wan said, polite as can be. Mace waved his hand.

“By order of the Council, you will be sent to Ilum on a search for your kyber crystals. _Both_ of you.” Mace looked right at Obi-wan, knowing that the young Knight had been using his Master’s lightsaber. Obi-wan bowed again.

“Understood, Masters.”

“On Ilum, find closure you will, yes.” Master Yoda said. Obi-wan bowed at Master Yoda as well.

“ _So much bowing_!” Anakin commented. Obi-wan sent amusement back through the bond. Mace sighed.

“Here’s to hoping you two are less of a headache.” He muttered.

“Not likely, Master.” Obi-wan said, still the essence of politeness. Anakin muffled a giggle behind his hand. Some coughing from other Council-members – most notably Master Koon – caused the corners of Obi-wan’s lips to turn upwards, just the slightest bit. He’d been honing his subtle sarcasm with T’la and the others – though his ‘sarcasm game’ had already been in top form from his padawanship, thanks in no small part to his time practicing with Satine – and the work seemed to be paying off, judging by the throbbing of a vein in Mace’s temple. The Korun master seemed to be regretting ever having opened his mouth. Obi-wan kept his face a mask of Jedi indifference. After a moment where Mace looked very tempted to hide his face in his hands, Eeth cleared his throat and Mace dashed a hand through the air.

“Dismissed. You may leave on the next shuttle with the Hawkbat clan.” Obi-wan and Anakin bowed together one last time, the very picture of a Jedi team, and left the Council chambers, finally a true Jedi team.


End file.
